


First Year: Babysitting has just begun

by DominusMortis



Series: Harry Potter and Why He Should Never Be Left Unsupervised [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Basically normal book but with added scenes, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Draco and Sarah are best friends, Fluff, Harry Potter Rewrite, Harry is friends with Slytherins, No relationships now, Original Plot, Sarah doesn't take anyones bullshit, Sass, Slytherin OC - Freeform, Snark, Who knew I could be funny, even more sass, they're all babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 60,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominusMortis/pseuds/DominusMortis
Summary: Sarah Deaumont and Draco Malfoy have always been best friends. But they've always known the expectations of their pureblood families. What happens when they go to Hogwarts and befriend not only the Boy-Who-Lived but also an entire cache of Gryffindors?Rewrite of the first book that follows the original plot but from the perspective of an original character. Added scenes and commentary are my own work. Everything else belongs to JK Rowling!First of seven books - will diverge from canon later in series. First few books are basically copy and paste until the real shit goes down.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Original Female Character(s), Eventual original female characters/original male characters, Gryffindors & Slytherins, eventual Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter - Relationship
Series: Harry Potter and Why He Should Never Be Left Unsupervised [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789387
Comments: 19
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The plot and characters all belong to JK Rowling and her wonderous world. Only original characters and additional plot points and comments are my own. Yes, this is basically word for word in most cases but that's how we're rolling right now. Enjoy xx
> 
> (Ps: this is an un-betaed story so excuse any mistakes)

“Draco! Draco wake up!” The small, black-clad figure jumped onto the green silk covering Draco’s sleeping form. Only tufts of his white-blonde hair were visible from under the blankets, spread messily across the pillow. He groaned and pulled the covers further over his head.

“Ugh go away, Sarah. It’s too early for me to deal with you.” He tried to roll over and go back to sleep but Sarah wouldn’t let him – grabbing his arms and shaking furiously until Draco’s head felt like a bell ringing at midday. His spluttered protests were muffled by the sheets as his traitorous friend continued to shout much too loudly for seven in the morning.

“Get up you lazy wretch! Don’t you remember what day it is?” Sarah bounced excitedly around the bed, finally having released Draco from her iron grip.

“Day – what – ?” Sarah watched as his grey eyes lit up brightly in recognition. “September 1st!” Draco suddenly jumped up onto the bed, causing Sarah to fly off the edge onto the carpeted floor. “WE’RE GOING TO HOGWARTS! WE’RE GOING TO HOGWARTS!”

The two children continued chanting at the top of their lungs, bounding across the large room like firecrackers; spinning and causing general mayhem made possible only by the sheer bottomless pit of energy present in eleven-year-olds.

“What in Merlin’s name is all this racket about?” Draco’s mother, Narcissa, had entered the bedroom unseen by either child and now stood in the doorway, watching the two kids in amusement. Narcissa Malfoy had a regal look about her. If you saw her from across the room you would automatically assume she was powerful. Even so early in the morning, her long white-blonde hair – which was identical to Draco’s – was pulled back in an elegant bun and fastened with sleek gold clips that had been a Christmas present from Sarah the previous year. Her robes were the same colour as the morning sky, a soft periwinkle which flowed gently with her movements. Her posture (perfect as always) only enhanced the aura of power surrounding her; she was someone who could command an entire room with a single glance.

Unfortunately, that piercing blue-grey glance was currently directed at Sarah and Draco, who had both quieted down at her words. Sarah couldn’t contain her excitement for long though and launched herself towards the older woman, wrapping her thin arms around her tightly.

“Narcissa, we finally get to go to Hogwarts! I can’t believe it!” Sarah released Narcissa and raced back to Draco, grabbing his hand tightly and dragging him towards his mother.

“You have no idea how proud I am of the two of you,” Narcissa smiled down at the pair and placed on hand on each of their shoulders. “And Sarah, I know that if it were up to her, your mother would have wanted nothing more than to be here today to see you off at the train.”

Sarah’s family had always been close to the Malfoys. She and Draco had practically been raised together, two sides of the same coin. After Sarah’s mother had died in March, she had been living with the Malfoys. Draco had comforted her through the long nights and tiring days – she felt more at home with him than at her family’s estate. And her father….

Sarah drew herself away from her turbulent thoughts. _Not today_ , she said to herself, _today is a good day_. She glanced at Draco and smiled. His storm-cloud eyes were troubled but he managed to smile back. She turned back to Narcissa.

“Can we leave early and get breakfast at that bakery across from the station? Please?” Sarah pouted up at Narcissa, doing her best puppy-dog eyes.

Narcissa sighed but smiled serenely down at her, “I guess…if you both manage to finish packing this century,” The older woman’s face split in a wide grin, “I know for a fact that I saw some of Draco’s undergarments still in the front room.”

“Mother!” Draco exclaimed, his pale complexion quickly turning bright pink.

Sarah giggled brightly and rushed forward, dragging the still-blushing Draco behind her.

“We’ll pack now! See you downstairs in an hour.” With those words, Sarah raced out of the bedroom, ignoring Draco’s indignant spluttering and Narcissa’s bright laughter floating after them.

***

Platform nine and three-quarters was complete and absolute chaos. Sarah thought it looked like if a cathedral hosted a multi-school camp but minus the teacher supervision. Families milled throughout the platform, hugging children of all ages and checking trunks and pet cages. Hordes of other children ran rampant between them, shouting as they saw their friends or jumping onto the scarlet steam engine to secure a compartment. It was wild, chaotic, deafening – Sarah _loved_ it.

“I’ll see you two at Christmas. Enjoy your term and for Merlin’s sake, _behave yourselves_.” Narcissa’s blue-grey eyes were sparkling with tears but she didn’t shed them. She pulled Sarah into a warm hug and then Draco, squeezing her son tightly.

“Mother! You’re bruising my ribs!” Draco squeaked weakly.

Narcissa laughed gently and released him, brushing her hands tenderly through his hair. It was such a motherly action that Sarah’s heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a python.

“Now go, you two. Find a compartment and make some friends.” Narcissa suddenly placed her hands on their shoulders, her expression serious and muttered so that only they could hear, “Remember what your father has taught you Draco, and you too, Sarah. You both must uphold the expectations of your families.” Sarah nodded along with Draco. If there was one thing they both understood, it was the expectations of pureblood families. What Narcissa didn’t know, was that Sarah didn’t intend on upholding to all of them. She was ready to choose her own path in life – as much as she could.

The steam engine let out a screeching whistle and parents all around them hurriedly ushered their children towards the doors of the train. Narcissa gave the pair one last smile before inclining her head towards the compartments.

“Come on Draco, let’s go.” With one last wave towards Narcissa, Draco and Sarah leapt into the train and started down the crowded corridor.

***

Near the end of the train, Draco pulled Sarah to a halt.

“Let’s go in here. Everywhere else is really full and these guys look around our age.”

Sarah nodded and stepped up to the glass door of the compartment. She knocked lightly and then pulled it open, sticking her head in. A small boy with a mop of ink-black hair and round glasses was sitting next to the window opposite a gangly red-haired boy. Both looked up in surprise when the door opened.

“Hi, may we sit with you? Everywhere else is full.” Sarah tried to sound confident but her stomach had decided to start doing somersaults without her permission. The black-haired boy smiled brightly at her.

“Sure! I’m Harry and this is Ron.” He gestured to the boy opposite him, who waved and moved closer to the window.

“Brilliant, thank you!” She grabbed Draco’s hand again and dragged him through the open door, depositing him next to Harry and sitting herself down next to Ron.

“My name is Sarah and this is Draco.” She saw Ron flinch away suddenly and her stomach stopped doing somersaults and instead curled up in dread.

“Draco? As in Draco Malfoy?” He growled, “Harry, I changed my mind, they shouldn’t sit here.”

Sarah turned towards him and opened her mouth but Draco beat her to it.

“Judging by those hand-me-down robes and red hair, you must be a Weasley.” Draco’s sneer was so perfectly executed that, if Sarah wasn’t mentally slamming her head against a wall, she would have been impressed by his ability to slam that mask on so suddenly. Instead, she groaned internally and glanced at Harry. The poor boy just watched the confrontation in confusion. Sarah was suddenly filled with rising anger at the boys.

“Enough!” She snapped at them. Both boys shrank back as she glared at them. She turned towards Draco and gave him her best-disappointed stare. “You! Stop spouting your father’s utter nonsense! We agreed to not let our families define us yet here you are already acting like the spoilt brat everyone believes you to be!” She swivelled around to glare at Ron. “And you! We just met you, the least you can do is give us the benefit of the doubt before you start spouting _your_ family’s opinions.” She huffed and slouched in the chair.

Silence filled the compartment as the two boys both looked down in shame. It was broken by Draco straightening and addressing Ron.

“I’m sorry for what I said. As Sarah said, we don’t actually believe the opinions held by our families. I hope you can forgive me.” Draco’s hands were twisting together in his lap, obvious proof of his nerves. Ron held his gaze steadily and slowly nodded.

“I’m sorry too, mate. I shouldn’t have judged you straight away just by your name.” Ron’s ears and neck were tinged red and Sarah could tell he was embarrassed. She straightened and made eye contact with both the boys.

“Good. Now that we are all acting our age, I suggest we start over.” She stuck her hand out towards Ron. “Hi, my name is Sarah. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The redhead grinned shyly and took her hand, shaking once and muttering, “It’s nice to meet you, Sarah, I’m Ron.”

Sarah turned to Harry, who took her hand without hesitation. “Harry. A pleasure to meet you.”

Finally, she turned towards Draco who regarded her with raised eyebrows. “Really?”

She nodded and grinned brightly. He sighed, taking her hand, a large smile blossoming on his face. “Draco Malfoy, lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Sarah beamed at the three boys, all of whom were watching her with mixed expressions of delight (Harry), surprise (Ron) and resignation (Draco). She jumped across the space between the seats and pushed Draco out of the way, squeezing beside Harry. “I guess you and I are going to have to keep these two in check.”

Harry smiled widely at her and nodded, his broken glasses sliding down his nose. He quickly pushed them back up but they slid down again. Sarah noticed they were poorly taped together in the middle and was about to offer to fix them when the compartment door slid open again.

A girl around their age was standing in the doorway. Her bushy chestnut hair was held back in a ponytail and her serious chocolate-coloured eyes scanned the compartment. Sarah looked behind the girl to see a short, pudgy blonde boy peering nervously over her shoulder. The girl straightened and pinned her eyes on the occupants of the compartment.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.” The girl had a bossy sort of voice and a stubborn set to her jaw.

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” Ron said. Harry muttered to Sarah that the blonde boy – Neville – had come by earlier. Neville sighed sadly with a downcast look on his face. Even though Sarah didn’t know the boy, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“It’s ok,” she said. “He’ll turn up somewhere.”

“Yeah…hope so,” Neville muttered. He waved half-heartedly at the everyone before wearily retreating down the corridor. The girl who had arrived with him stayed standing at the door, frowning at where Neville had disappeared.

“I hope he finds it.” She turned back to the group. “I’m Hermione Granger. May I sit with you? I’d rather not go back to the compartment I was in. It was full of second and third years.”

“Sure,” Sarah said. “I’m Sarah.” Hermione settled down next to Ron as the others introduced themselves.

“Draco Malfoy, nice to meet you,” Draco said.

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron muttered.

“Harry Potter,” said Harry.

“Are you really?” said Hermione. “I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_.”

She said all this very fast.

“I am?” Harry said dazedly.

“Yes!” Draco sounded very excited.

Draco and Sarah had always been interested in the Potters – they had read all the stories and conspiracies surrounding Harry’s miraculous survival at Voldemort’s hand after his parent’s deaths. One day, on Halloween in 1981, Voldemort showed up on the Potter’s doorstep and killed Lily and James. He then went after Harry but somehow the one-year-old had survived and Voldemort had disappeared. Sarah knew that Draco had always wanted to meet Harry Potter and she did as well – but for slightly different reasons.

Harry looked very overwhelmed with the influx of information and Draco looked like he was about to burst from excitement. Sarah decided now was a good time to change the topic.

“Harry, I noticed your glasses were broken. Would you like me to repair them?” she said, gently squeezing Draco’s wrist to tell him to calm down.

Harry looked relieved by the change of topic and nodded quickly, pulling off his thin glasses and handing them to her.

“Can you really fix them?” He asked hopefully.

Sarah examined the wireframes and the tape holding them together. One of the lenses was cracked.

“I should be able to. Draco’s mother taught me a spell after I accidentally broke a window playing Quidditch,” replied Sarah. She tapped her wand against the glasses, “ _Oculus reparo_!” The frames straightened with a snap and the cracked lens repaired itself. Sarah smiled and handed the now-fixed glasses back to Harry.

“Thanks!” he exclaimed.

“Have any of you read the assigned books? I read them over the holidays and can’t believe all the wonderful things we’ll get to learn. I’m the only person in my family to have magic and I was oh so pleased to get my letter – Professor McGonagall even came to explain everything to my parents it was wonderful. I wonder what House I’ll be in, what about you guys? Does anyone know how they sort us?” Hermione said all of this without taking a breath, leaving the boys slightly dumbstruck as if a great gust of wind had come and wreaked havoc in the compartment.

Sarah grinned and knew that she and Hermione would become fast friends.

“I did read the books briefly but because I grew up with magic, it wasn’t really anything new. I forced Draco to practice some of the easier spells with me though because I told him he couldn’t just sit around all day and expect to suddenly get good marks the minute he walked into class.” She said, punching Draco in the arm when he grumbled a complaint next to her.

Hermione beamed at her whilst the boys shared shocked looks.

“I hope I get into Gryffindor. My entire family has been in it,” Ron said.

“That would be good. Apparently Dumbledore was in Gryffindor. Ravenclaw doesn’t sound that bad either,” Hermione added.

“I really don’t know which House I’ll be in,” Harry commented, “Knowing my luck I’ll end up in the worst House.”

“Hufflepuff,” Draco snorted. “If you end up in Hufflepuff I may just have to stop talking to you.”

The three boys burst into laughter while Hermione watched on, her expression pained as if she couldn’t decide whether to laugh along or scold them. She seemed to give up and instead turned towards Sarah.

“What House do you think you’ll be in, Sarah?” she said calmly.

“Well…it’s a bit difficult actually,” Sarah paused and thought about how she could explain the pureblood expectations held by her father without scaring her new friends away. Draco caught her eye and nodded, silently supporting her whatever she decided to say. “Draco and I…well we grew up in very traditional pureblood families and we have certain…er, _expectations_ , we have to follow and one of those is that we’re in Slytherin. All of Draco’s family have been in Slytherin and – ”

“My father would most likely disown me if I got into anything _other_ than Slytherin,” Draco cut in calmly. “My mother would be more lenient but she can’t go against my father directly.”

“That’s – that’s horrible! Why would your mother stay with him if he’s basically controlling what she can and can’t do?” Hermione exclaimed wildly.

“It’s just how it is in the pureblood circles: arranged marriages, wives obeying husbands, crushing expectations – “ Draco listed, marking them off on his fingers.

“Draco!”

“Sorry.”

“He has a point, Hermione,” Sarah interjected. “We’re both expected to be in Slytherin or we might as well not go to Hogwarts. My mother used to say it didn’t matter what House I got in, as long as I was true to myself but now…well, I have to follow what my father expects of me.”

“But Slytherin has always had evil people come out of it! You-Know-Who was in Slytherin,” Ron said.

“I understand why you think that – and yes, in the past few decades a lot of His followers did come out of Slytherin but not all Slytherin’s are bad! Merlin was a Slytherin and he wasn’t evil.” Draco countered, his hands moving quickly to emphasise his words.

Sarah couldn’t help but laugh internally at him. Whenever he started talking about something he was passionate about, he would gesture faster and faster until you were in danger of getting hit by a flying appendage. She listened to him continue to rant for a bit longer until she noticed that Ron’s eyes had begun to glaze over – a dangerous situation to be in when dealing with a passionate Draco.

“Draco, calm down darling. Let’s not fry their brains with pureblood politics just yet.” She said, resting an arm around Draco’s shoulder and leaning into him slightly. She turned to Harry and smiled gently. “My mother was a Gryffindor. She once told me that she was friends with Lily during school.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes lit up at the mention of his mum. “Hagrid told me that I look just like my dad but have my mum’s eyes.”

“They’re right. I’ve seen some photos of your father that my mother had – actually I think they were cousins,” replied Sarah.

“Does that mean you’re my cousin like twice removed or something?” Harry asked, his green eyes gleaming. He really did have extraordinary eyes; like emeralds shimmering in the sunlight.

“That’s way too confusing. I am officially claiming you as my cousin!” Sarah pushed off Draco and wrapped her arms around Harry. “You can never escape me now!” She and Harry collapsed into loud giggles while Draco shook his head at them.

“Well, isn’t this a cosy scene?” A leering voice sounded as the compartment door was once again opened. Two bulky figures took up the doorway – boys with ugly faces and even uglier personalities.

“Crabbe, Goyle, lovely to see you,” Draco said, his voice a sarcastic drawl.

“Malfoy. We’ve been looking for you two, you were meant to sit with us and the others.” Sarah was amazed that Goyle could form a coherent sentence that long, she didn’t know that his brain was capable of such a feat.

“The other compartments were full and we decided to sit here. We must have missed you,” Draco replied diplomatically. He was always in more control when dealing with these two thugs. Sarah usually ended up shouting something that led to her getting in trouble, so she tried to avoid the two idiots as much as she could. She inched closer to Harry, noting how Crabbe’s eyes narrowed and scanned her body up and down.

“I think they’ve had their fun now, don’t you Goyle?” Crabbe sneered. Goyle grunted in agreement. Obviously his daily word count had been used up in that one sentence.

“Actually, I’m quite comfortable where I am, boys. I don’t think I’ll make the trek down to the others,” Sarah lazily stated, stretching herself out like a cat. “Besides, we only have a few hours left until we arrive. No point really at all, I say.”

“I don’t think so, Deaumont. I think your daddy might like to know that you’re lounging around with blood-traitors and mudbloods instead of proper company.” Crabbe taunted. Blood roared in Sarah’s ears as her fear and anger warred against each other. Draco stood up suddenly, forcing Crabbe and Goyle to step back away from the door.

“I think it’s time you both leave. Whom Sarah and I choose to sit with is none of your business. Leave. Now.” Draco’s voice was dismissive but commanding. Neither Crabbe nor Goyle risked ignoring him and instead turned and stalked down the corridor. Draco closed the door and sat back down, his whole body shaking with suppressed anger. “I hate those two so much. They’re disgusting! Did you _see_ the way they were looking at Sarah?”

“Let’s forget about them. We’re nearly at Hogwarts! I wonder what food they’ll have at the feast. Mother would always say that no matter how good our house-elves were, nothing beat Hogwarts cooking.” Sarah cheerfully announced, pushing down her fear at Crabbe’s words. There was no point focusing on what her father might say – she hadn’t seen him for months.

A voice echoed through the train: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”

Sarah sat up quickly, her stomach lurched with nerves, and she noticed that Ron, Harry and Hermione all looked slightly pale. Draco was still resting comfortably against the seat but his fingers were twisting slowly in his lap. Everyone quickly pulled their black robes over their heads then joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Sarah grasped Harry and Draco’s hands tightly to avoid being swept away by the crowd. She could see Hermione in front of her shivering in the cold air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Sarah heard a loud voice:

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! All right there, Harry?”

A massive hairy face beamed over the sea of heads directly at Harry.

“Who is _that_?” exclaimed Draco.

“That’s Hagrid,” explained Harry, “He took me to Diagon Alley to get my school stuff.”

“C’mon, follow me – any more firs’ years? Mind yer step now! Firs’ years follow me!” Hagrid boomed.

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Sarah thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”

Sarah had never seen somewhere so beautiful. The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. Sarah could only imagine how gorgeous the ancient castle would look in the daylight.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Sarah dragged Draco and Harry into one and saw Hermione, Ron and Neville climb into another.

“Everyone in?” shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. “Right then – FORWARD!”

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle in awe. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

“Heads down!” yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

“Oy! Whose toad is this?” said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

“Trevor!” cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid’s lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

“Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?”

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	2. Chapter Two

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face that reminded Sarah of her old governess.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall reminded Sarah of the giant ballroom at Malfoy Manor. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches which flicked in the slight breeze that blew in from the door. The ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Sarah could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowed in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of your will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarted yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

The Professor’s eyes lingered on the boys near Sarah, who smothered a giggle.

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please wait quietly.”

She left the chamber. Harry turned to Ron nervously.

“How exactly do they sort us into Houses?” he asked, trying to flatten his hair.

Sarah listened to Ron reply with some ridiculous idea of a painful test, while she straightened the collar of Draco’s robes and brushed his hair neatly back.

“Sarah, stop mothering me!” he complained, extricating himself from her grasp.

She laughed and turned to her next victim: Neville.

“Come on, Neville. Let me help you with your robes,” she offered.

While she fixed Neville’s robes, several people behind her screamed.

“What the – ?”

Sarah gasped. So did her friends around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. The seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat monk was saying: “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance – “

“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?”

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered – they were still in shock at seeing talking ghosts.

“New students!” said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. “About to be Sorted, I suppose?”

A few people nodded mutely.

“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” said the Friar. “My old House, you know.”

“Move along now,” said a sharp voice. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.”

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

“Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.”

Sarah got in line behind Harry, with Draco behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Sarah had heard stories of the Great Hall but her imagination could never do the real thing any justice. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, were the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here so that they came to a halt in a line facing the teachers, with the other students behind them. Sarah heard Hermione whisper, “It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_.”

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn’t simply open on to the heavens. Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard’s hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Sarah really did _not_ want to touch it.

Everyone was staring at the hat. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth – and the hat began to sing.

Sarah had to admit: she didn’t hear a word of the song. She was still much too stunned by a talking hat to fully register what was being said. Thankfully, Draco looked like he was paying attention so she could ask him later about it if she needed to. The hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again as if it had never moved in the first place.

“So we’ve got to try on the hat!” Sarah heard Ron whisper to Harry. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll.”

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment’s pause –

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Sarah saw the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

“Bones, Susan.”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

“Boot, Terry.”

“RAVENCLAW!”

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

“Brocklehurst, Mandy” went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Sarah could see a pair of red-headed twins catcalling.

“Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Sarah remembered Millie from when she was younger and she and Draco were forced to attend stuffy parties with all the pureblood families. Millie had always been quite nice to her, albeit slightly scary looking.

“Deaumont, Sarah!”

Sarah took a deep breath, squeezed Draco’s hand quickly and made her way to the stool. She managed not to flinch as she picked up the grubby hat and placed it on her head.

“Hmm,” said a small voice in her ear. “You, dear, are an interesting one. You would fit in well in many places: Ravenclaw with that brain of yours, or Gryffindor – you have a lot of courage.”

 _I want to be with Draco_ , Sarah thought, _put me in Slytherin._

“Ah yes, the pureblood families do have certain expectations, don’t they?” the hat whispered. “You are right though; you would fit in well in Slytherin. Very well then – better be – SLYTHERIN!”

Sarah heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. The Slytherin table burst into applause and she could see her friends in line clapping hard for her as well. She took off the hat and made her way to table second from the right, slipping silently next to Millicent. Crabbe glared at her diagonally across the table, his ugly face filled with contempt. She glared at him and faced back to the front of the hall.

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Sometimes, Sarah noticed, the hat shouted out the House at once, but at others, it took a little while to decide. “Finnigan, Seamus” sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before,

“Granger, Hermione!”

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

“GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. Sarah clapped for her friend, ignoring the looks she got from the rest of her table. She could see Harry tugging nervously at a lock of his hair while Ron seemed to be trying to mimic a Christmas look, with his red hair and green complexion.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR,” Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to place it on the stool.

“Malfoy, Draco!”

Sarah’s heart pounded painfully in her chest as her best friend took his spot on the stool. He had a deep look of concentration on his face, one that morphed into delight tinged with relief when the hat shouted, “SLYTHERIN!”

He leapt down and hurried to the seat beside Sarah. She screamed in happiness whilst pulling Draco into a rib-breaking hug. “WE DID IT!”

Once the table had settled down again, Sarah noticed that there weren’t many people left now. Harry looked like he was going to pass out from worry and Ron looked as if he were about to be sick all over the floor.

“Moon”…, “Nott”…, “Parkinson”…., then a pair of twin girls, “Patil” and “Patil”…, and then, at last –

“Potter, Harry!”

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

“ _Potter_ , did she say?”

“ _The_ Harry Potter?”

People around the hall were craning to get a good look at him. The poor bloke looked terrified. The hall fell silent as the hat debated where to put him. He sat there the longest – over a minute and a half – until finally, the hat screamed, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Harry got the loudest cheer yet. The entire Gryffindor table jumped up and applauded him. Sarah and Draco clapped along from the opposite side of the hall, cheers coming from the other two tables as well. Sarah saw a Prefect with red hair shake Harry’s hand vigorously, while the twin red-heads yelled, “We got Potter! We got Potter!” Harry sat down and made eye contact with Sarah from across the hall – she gave him two big thumbs up and beamed at him.

And now there were only four people left to be sorted. “Thomas, Dean,” a black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. “Turpin, Lisa,” became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron’s turn. He was a sickly pale green now. Sarah crossed her fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Sarah clapped loudly as she watched Ron collapsed into the chair next to Harry. The final person, “Zabini, Blaise,” was made a Slytherin and then Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we being our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

He sat back down. Everybody cheered and clapped. Sarah burst into laughter as Draco stared in shock at the old Headmaster.

“Is he – a bit mad?” he asked uncertainly.

“Who cares?’ Sarah laughed, pointing at the golden plates which had previously been empty. “Food!”

The dishes in front of them were now piled with food. Sarah was reminded of the Christmas lunches at Malfoy Manor: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, sauce, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

“Here Sarah,” said Draco, passing a tray toward her, “spinach and feta pastries.”

Sarah’s mouth watered as she filled her plate with the pastries, fries, roast beef and vegetables. Narcissa has always made her and Draco eat with impeccable manners and only have small servings of everything – but she wasn’t here now and couldn’t stop Sarah from putting herself in a food coma.

“Draco, it’s official. I’ve died and gone to heaven. Lay dark roses at my funeral,” she said, swaying dramatically on to Draco’s shoulder.

“Heaven? Please,” he scoffed, reaching for another serving of beef, “we both know you’re going to Hell.”

“You’re right,” she replied airily, “where else am I supposed to revel in the glory of my eternal reign?”

Draco laughed and shook his head, pushing Sarah off his shoulder to fill both their goblets with water.

“You’re odd, you know that right?” said Pansy Parkinson, her pug-like nose scrunched up in confusion.

“Why thank you, darling. I do try,” replied Sarah, fanning herself with one hand and toasting her goblet with the other.

Millicent cracked a smile from across the table. “Leave her alone, Sarah. It’s not her fault she never got used to your antics.”

Sarah pouted and placed her goblet back on the table.

“Yes Pansy, we so missed you at last year’s Christmas party,” she stated. “You should have seen Blaise’s mother. She was practically being trampled by those horrible red-faced pigs.” Sarah turned to Blaise, who had claimed the seat next to Draco. “How is your mother, Blaise? She gave my mother the most splendid brooch.”

Blaise somehow managed to laze in his seat without making it look strange. “She’s very well, thank you. I must say though, one of those ‘horrible red-faced pigs’ is now my newest stepfather.” His voice, surprisingly elegant for an eleven-year-old, sounded indifferent while talking about his mother’s latest conquest; it sounded as if he were merely commenting on the weather.

“That’s unfortunate,” said Sarah, shuddering in disgust.

“What’s unfortunate, Deaumont, is you and Malfoy befriending those Gryffindor freaks,” hissed Crabbe.

Their small circle fell silent at his words, an icy mood descending upon them.

“We told you before, Crabbe, it’s none of your business who we are friends with,” Sarah snapped.

“Why don’t you try focusing on eating without spilling on yourself rather than on Sarah and Draco’s lives?” Pansy calmly stated, smoothly cutting into a slice of meat with trained precision.

Crabbe grunted and turned away, putting his head close to Goyle’s and muttering to him quietly.

“Thanks, Pans,” said Sarah gratefully.

“No problem, darling,” she replied sweetly. She hesitated a moment before continuing. “And for the record, I am sorry to hear about your mother.”

Sarah’s hands stilled and she looked down at her plate.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She felt Draco’s hand rest on her shoulder and she looked up at the others. Their expressions were a mixture of concern and sadness. “I’m okay – I have Draco and Narcissa, and now I have you guys and my other friends.” She smiled, eager to brighten the mood. “Why don’t we not worry about me, and instead worry about how we’re possibly going to eat all this dessert without making ourselves sick!”

Dessert had suddenly appeared, replacing the main courses. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding...Sarah was overwhelmed by the amount of food available and was soon feeling very full and sleepy.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

“Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the red-headed Gryffindor twins, who Sarah decided must have been Ron’s brothers.

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish is to die a very painful death.”

Sarah glanced at Draco in surprise and he shrugged his shoulders. _Painful death?_

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Sarah noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed and she grinned in delight.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

“Everyone pick their favourite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

Sarah watched in delightful amazement as hundreds of students sang along with Dumbledore, all of them choosing different paced tunes and keys.

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.

“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here. And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

Sarah grabbed Draco’s arm and shook it in excitement.

“I want to be friends with those guys!” she exclaimed, pointing towards the Gryffindor table, where the twins were bowing to their adoring fans.

“Alright you lot, let’s get going,” a voice announced beside the first years. It belonged to a tall, brown-haired boy with bright blue eyes. A green Prefect badge glinted in the firelight from where it was pinned to his robes. Behind him stood a girl with long, blonde hair and soft hazel eyes. A matching badge adorned her robes.

“Adrian, be nice,” she scolded gently before turning towards the first years and smiling brightly. “I’m Gemma Farley and this is Adrian Pucey. We are your Prefects for this year. We’re going to show you the common room and your dormitories. If you would follow us please.”

She turned around and began pushing through the crowd who gradually parted for the line of first years.

As they were reaching the doors, Sarah saw Harry, Ron and Hermione approaching from the other side.

“HARRY!” She shouted, jumping at him and wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so happy for all of you!” She did the same to Ron and Hermione, both of whom looked tired but happy.

“I’m glad you and Draco are together. It’s a shame we won’t share a common room but hopefully, we can see each other in class or free time,” said Harry. People were still sending him wide-eye glances as they walked past the small group.

“Oi! Mind your own business!” Ron shouted at the onlookers.

“Deaumont! Hurry up or you’ll get left behind!” Adrian shouted from outside the doors.

Sarah turned back to the Gryffindor’s and gave Harry one last hug.

“I’ve got to go but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” she said, smiling at her three friends.

They all nodded and she ran off through the crowd, nearly crashing into Draco who had stopped at the top of a set of stairs. Wordlessly, he dragged her after the others down a dark stone corridor lit by mounted torches.

The Slytherin dorms were in the dungeons, not too far away from the Potions classroom. The air was cold and slightly stale, but at least the corridors were clean and not filled with the general school’s traffic.

After a few turns, Adrian and Gemma stopped in front of a strip of large wall identical to the others; the only difference was that two torches bordered the middle of the wall rather than the far edges as if marking the outline of a large door.

Adrian clearly spoke what must have been a password to the wall, “Salazar”, and the wall split in two, sliding apart until a large opening stood where the stone had once been.

“Welcome to the common room,” said Adrian. “Girls dormitories are on the left; boys are on the right. Your belongings will already be in your rooms. Breakfast starts at seven-thirty – be there to get your timetables from Professor Snape. If you have any issues or further questions, ask us tomorrow.”

He and Gemma waved goodbye before heading to a large group of people sitting in a group of couches near the fireplace.

Some people may have described the common room as dark or mysterious, but Sarah thought it was perfectly elegant. Simple dark green accentuated by silver covered the furniture and a soft grey carpet covered the floor. Dark timber lined the walls, flaming torches in sconces coating the room in a soft firelight. This was enhanced by the roaring fireplace in the middle of the far wall. It was bordered by floor to ceiling windows which looked out into inky darkness. Sarah moved closer and realised that the shapes moving in the dark weren’t from the torches but were actually fish and sea creatures – their dormitory was under the lake!

The first years began to break off to their various dormitories and Sarah told Draco to meet her back in the common room after they explored their rooms. She grabbed Millie and Pansy’s hands and pulled them towards the corridor leading to their dormitory. The first-year dorm was the closest door to the common room. Five beds were spread along the walls adjacent to the door – two on the left, three on the right. Another door on the left led to a private bathroom, complete with a bath, a shower, a large basin with a mirror and multiple cabinets.

The opposite wall was entirely glass, with large, dark green drapes pulled back on either side. Sarah claimed the bed on the right wall, closest to the window. If she strained, she could hear the water gently lapping against the glass.

She dragged her trunk from where it was lying with the others next to the door, to beside her bed. She quickly changed into a comfier set of clothes before saying goodbye to her roommates and headed back to the common room.

Draco had already claimed a free couch close to the fire so she leapt on it, laying her head on a pillow in his lap and stretching herself out.

“Do you like your room?” she asked, closing her eyes and settling back comfortably.

“Hmm,” he agreed, “I managed to get the bed closest to the window but opposite the bathroom. Blaise and Theo took the ones on the same wall as mine and Crabbe and Goyle got the two on the opposite side of the room.”

“I got that bed too! Although, our bathroom is closer to the main door,” said Sarah. “It’s good you’re opposite the bathroom – I know how important your morning routine is and would hate to see any of your roommates injured in an attempt to disrupt it.”

Draco slapped her lightly on the shoulder before gently carding his fingers through her hair. “I do not have a – a _routine­_ ,” he spluttered. “Just because I actually like to shower in the morning unlike you, _heathen_ –“

“Hey!”

“ – does _not_ mean it’s a routine. Just merely a healthy appreciation of personal hygiene.”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say, Beauty Queen.”

“Do _not_ call me, Beauty Queen!”

“Just stating it as it is – “

“I will throw you off this couch – “

“You love me.”

“Yes, but I will still not hesitate to throw you off this couch.”

A polite cough cut through their bickering and the pair turned towards where Millicent and Blaise were standing, watching in amusement.

“If you two are quite done…?” Blaise joked bemusedly. He lounged on the chair opposite us, crossing his ankles in front of him.

Millicent perched on the arm of his chair and crossed her arms, looking around the room.

“It is quite nice, isn’t it?” she observed, her blue eyes reflecting in the light of the fire.

“Yes, it is,” Sarah agreed. There was something about the common room that just radiated safety. “Where’s Pans?” she asked Millicent.

“Getting ready for bed. Merlin knows how long that girl takes in the bathroom,” was the amused reply.

“Gods, she sounds like Draco,” teased Sarah. Draco calmly pushed her off the couch.

“Ouch!” she yelped, clambering back up from the floor and resuming her previous position. Draco continued brushing through her hair.

“We should head to bed soon; it’s been a long day and tomorrow will be even busier,” suggested Draco, his white-blonde hair turned golden by the light.

“Hmm, you’re probably right,” groaned Blaise. He pushed himself out of his armchair and offered his hand to Millie, who took it and elegantly stood from her perch.

Draco tapped Sarah’s head and she sighed, swinging herself upright and raising her arms. Draco released a long breath and stood, smiling slightly, grabbing her hands and pulling her into a standing position.

“Thank you, I love you,” she sang. He smiled and kissed her cheek.

“Love you too, idiot,” he snorted. “I’ll meet you here for breakfast.”

“Yep!” agreed Sarah. “Don’t forget to wake up early enough to complete your routine!”

She danced away before he could punch her and skipped out of the room with Millicent on her heels.


	3. Chapter Three

“Sarah wake up! You’re going to be late!”

Sarah ignored the voice shouting in her ear and turned over, pulling her sheets over her head.

Suddenly, everything was ripped away and her body was exposed to the cold, goosebumps rising quickly on her skin.

“What the hell?” she shouted, shivering in the morning cold.

“You’re welcome. It’s seven-thirty – Draco will be waiting for you in the common room,” Pansy stated, packing her bag efficiently on her bed.

Sarah groaned but got up, grabbing her uniform from her trunk and heading to the bathroom. When she emerged – fresh-faced but grumpy – she noticed that Pansy and Millicent had packed her bag for her and laid her tie and robes on her bed.

“Have I told you girls how much I genuinely love you?” Sarah sighed happily, reaching to put an arm around either girl.

“There, there, Sleeping Beauty,” Millicent muttered wryly.

Pansy laughed and pulled Sarah’s arm off her. “Let’s go get your boyfriend,” she teased.

“Ok firstly,” Sarah stated, grabbing her shoes and her bag, “he is not and will _never_ be my boyfriend. And secondly, ew. He’s literally my brother in everything except blood.”

The trio walked out into the common room laughing and spotted Draco near the main entrance chatting with Blaise and Theo. He spotted Sarah and smiled brightly.

“Hey,” he greeted, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “What were you guys laughing about?”

“I was just explaining to them that you were _not_ my boyfriend and were never going to be,” Sarah replied cheerfully.

Draco looked suitably horrified at the idea.

“I actually couldn’t imagine anything worse,” he gagged.

“Hey! You could be dating Goyle – that’s worse,” Sarah giggled.

Blaise burst into laughter beside Draco, causing the others to start hysterically laughing as well.

By the time they made it up to the entrance hall, they were all gasping for breath. They quickly retreated into the Great Hall, where wonderous smells were wafting out from.

“You have no idea how hungry I am,” Sarah moaned. She took a seat and began piling various food on her plate.

“Miss Deaumont, I would recommend chewing your food instead of inhaling it – we wouldn’t want you to choke on the first day,” a low voice advised from behind her.

Sarah did actually choke then, in surprise, and spun around to see Professor Snape towering over her.

“Good morning, Professor,” Sarah greeted politely. Despite having known Severus Snape for a number of years, he always managed to unnerve her by appearing when she least expected it. “What can I do for you this lovely morning?”

Professor Snape sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if to say, _what am I going to do with this child?_

“It’s what I can do for you, Miss Deaumont,” he drawled. He waved his wand and six sheets of paper appeared, settling beside each of their plates. “Your timetables. I expect you all to be punctual and prepared. I will not accept any Slytherin’s tainting our House’s reputation by being tardy.”

“Yessir!” Sarah saluted. Draco dropped his head into his hands.

Professor Snape merely sighed and moved on to the next group without a backwards glance.

“Eat up, Draco. I want to see the others before we go to class,” Sarah announced, scooping more food into her mouth.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered obediently with a small smile.

Once they had finished, they waved goodbye to their fellow Slytherins and made their way over to the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron were sat the end; the latter wolfing down food and the former hiding his head in his arms.

“Harry, Ron!” Draco greeted, sliding into the seat next to Harry while Sarah took the one next to Ron.

“Mornin’,” Ron garbled, his mouth still full of food.

“That’s disgusting, Ronald! Finish your mouthful before you speak,” barked Hermione from a few seats away. Ron swallowed with some difficulty and glared at her.

“Who asked for your opinion?” he snapped rudely.

“Ron, come on mate, be nice,” Harry tried.

“Why? She’s been nothing but bossy since we met her!” argued Ron.

“Enough!” Draco cried. “It doesn’t matter if she is bossy, you should still be polite,” he finished reasonably.

“Anyway,” Sarah started, “we came over to look at your timetables. Pass it over.”

Harry handed her his timetable and took hers in return. “Brilliant! We have Transfigurations, Charms and Potions together,” he read.

He opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by sudden loud screeches. Owls of all shapes and colours descended from slots near the ceiling and flew over the heads of the students, dropping packages and letters to their respective owners.

Draco’s eagle owl, Orion, dropped a letter addressed to him and Sarah on the table, took a sip from Harry’s goblet, and launched off the table, flying back the way he came.

Draco read through the letter quickly and then passed it to Sarah. “It’s basically just the usual reminders from father and mother: be good, don’t get into trouble, uphold traditions. I was planning on sending a letter back tonight telling her we both got into Slytherin if you want to help?” he asked, taking back the letter and sliding it into his bag.

“Sure, sounds good,” said Sarah. She looked up and saw Pansy becoming toward her, pointing at her wrist. “Looks like it’s time to go. We’ve got Defense Against the Dark Arts first but we’ll see you in Charms,” she said to Harry and Ron, rising from her seat and grabbing Draco’s hand, waving goodbye to the boys.

Defense Against the Dark Arts turned out to be a bit of a joke. Everyone had been looking forward to it, but the classroom smelled strongly of garlic (apparently in an attempt to ward off a vampire the Professor had met in Romania) and Professor Quirrell kept stuttering and dropping things; losing track of his thoughts as often as Neville seemed to lose his toad.

Charms was much more interesting. They were beginning with the levitation charm, _Wingardium Leviosa_. Harry, Draco, Sarah and Ron sat together in the back row. Tiny Professor Flitwick nearly toppled off his pile of books when he read Harry’s name on the roll, leaving Harry’s face bright red and Ron and Draco in fits of laughter. Neither Sarah nor Draco had managed to levitate their feathers by the end of class, yet Draco steadfastly argued that his flopped to the side at one point.

“That was the wind, you idiot,” said Sarah, while the group was walking toward the Great Hall for lunch.

“It was not!” Draco protested. “I’m telling you, my fingers started tingling and the feather flopped!”

“Maybe you’re allergic?” she suggested sarcastically.

“Git!”

“ _Beauty Queen_!”

“ _Heathen_!”

“For Merlin and Morgana’s sakes, would you two _please_ shut up!” Ron cried, throwing his hands over his ears.

Harry laughed heartedly and threw his arms around Draco and Sarah’s shoulders.

“How you two get anything done without constantly arguing is a mystery,” he stated cheerfully.

***

The rest of the day passed quite quickly and it soon flowed into the remainder of the week. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn’t open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren’t really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Sarah was sure the coats of armour could walk.

The ghosts didn’t help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new students in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, “GOT YOUR CONK!”

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and Ron had told Sarah that they had managed to get on the wrong side of him on the very first morning. Filch had found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn’t believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Sarah and Draco had a very enjoyable five minutes laughing at that particular story and didn’t stop until Harry and Ron threatened to lock them in a broom cupboard to shut them up.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs Norris, a scrawny, dust-coloured creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch’s. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she’d whisk off for Filch, who’d appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins, who Sarah greatly respected) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs Norris a good kick.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of the different stars and the movements of the planets. Sarah and Draco had great fun finding his name’s constellation and the others that their mothers had taught them. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used for. Sarah quickly realised that Herbology was not her calling after she managed to kill not one, but _three_ plants in the first week. Professor Sprout had ordered her to work alongside Draco and not touch any of the plants herself.

One class that everyone found horribly boring was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staffroom fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Sarah found the information interesting but only just managed to stay awake during the class – she usually had to poke Blaise awake at the end of every lesson.

Professor McGonagall was different and a personal favourite of Sarah’s. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

“Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” she said. “Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.”

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. It reminded Sarah of the transfiguration she had watched her mother do when she was younger and was very eager to start learning. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Sarah and Draco had managed any difference to their matches; Professor McGonagall showed the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and the pair a rare smile.

Friday morning saw Draco and Sarah again sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry and Ron.

“What have we got today?” Harry asked them as he poured sugar on his porridge.

“Double Potions with us,” Draco replied.

“People say that Snape favours you guys because he’s Head of your House, is that true?” asked Ron.

“Not sure, to be honest,” said Draco as he attempted to drown his pancakes in syrup. “As long as you don’t do anything to get on his bad side, you’ll be fine.”

“Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor and Harry and Ron were still complaining about the massive pile of homework she had set the day before.

“Oi, stop complaining. We got that homework too,” scolded Sarah while she added more bacon to her sandwich.

Just then, the mail arrived. They had all gotten used to it now. Sarah wasn’t expecting to see anything – as she and Draco had only sent a reply to Narcissa’s letter the night before – and was surprised to notice a snowy-white owl flap toward them. It dropped a note onto Harry’s plate before settling between the marmalade and sugar bowl.

Sarah reached out a hand to pet the soft feathers as Harry read out the message.

“Hagrid is wondering if I want to go get tea with him Friday afternoon. Do you guys want to come?” he asked. Ron, Draco and Sarah nodded and Harry borrowed Ron’s quill to scribble a reply. “Thanks, Hedwig.”

Sarah was glad that Harry had the tea to look forward to because the Potions lesson turned out to horrible for him.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons, not too far from the Slytherin common room. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Sarah saw Draco looking at everything with a mixture of disgust and admiration. For years he had been interested in potion-making and had forced Sarah to sit there and help him chop and mix ingredients. She hadn’t complained, the theory behind everything was actually quite interesting.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry’s name.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly, “Harry Potter. Our new – _celebrity­_.”

Sarah made eye contact with Draco and immediately thought, _oh no_.

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid’s, but they had none of Hagrid’s warmth. They were cold and empty and make you think of dark tunnels. Sarah thought something must have happened long ago to make Snape as cold as he was – he only very rarely showed an imitation of affection toward Draco, and even more rarely, toward Sarah.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

More silence followed this speech and Sarah saw Harry and Ron exchange looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn’t a dunderhead.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Sarah stared at the Professor in disbelief. How on earth was Harry expected to know that answer to that – or for the record – how was anyone? Draco raised his hand timidly, probably afraid of upsetting Snape more than he already was. Hermione’s hand had shot into the air in the row in front of them.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Harry.

Shape’s lips curled into a sneer and Sarah resisted the urge to drop her head into her hands.

“Tut, tut – fame clearly isn’t everything.”

He ignored Hermione and Draco’s hands.

“Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without leaving her heat, but Harry didn’t look like he had the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He glanced at Sarah nervously and she shook her head hopelessly.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”

Snape was still ignoring Hermione’s quivering hand.

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkswood and wolfsbane?”

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

“I don’t know,” said Harry quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”

Sarah groaned softly as a few people laughed. Snape, however, was not pleased.

“Sit down,” he snapped at Hermione. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkswood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?”

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment and Sarah heard Draco whisper to her. “Don’t worry, I go it down.” He slid her a piece of parchment and she nodded in thanks, quickly copying down his notes.

Over the noise, Snape said, “And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter.”

Things didn’t improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone except Sarah and Draco. Suddenly, clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’ cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Draco pulled Sarah onto the table quickly and reached a hand to help Harry, who was on his other side. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools or sitting on the desks while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Idiot boy!” snarled Snape, clearing the spilt potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

“Take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

“You – Potter – why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s another point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.”

“Sir!” Sarah gasped. “Harry wasn’t anywhere near Neville when he added the quills. He was helping me cut some ingredients.”

Silence filled the classroom as Snape stared at Sarah. She didn’t back down – she stood her ground and stared right back at him.

“Professor,” Draco began hesitantly, “I agree that points should be taken for Neville’s mistake but I don’t think that Harry should get blamed for the common mistake…”

Professor Snape’s nostrils flared violently. “I will accept opinions regarding the making of potions, the theory or the process – but I will _not_ accept opinions on how I deliver punishments in my classroom. Not even from you Mr Malfoy, Miss Deaumont. Is that _clear_?” he hissed in a deadly voice.

Draco and Sarah wordlessly nodded and looked down at their notes.

“Good. You two! Clean up Longbottom’s things,” Snape snapped at Ron and Harry. “What are you all waiting for? _Continue!_ ”

As the climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Sarah gripped Harry’s arm tightly and kept close to him.

“Harry, don’t worry about it. He was obviously in a bad mood for some reason and took it out on you – “

“Sarah, he targeted me out of _everyone_. What have I done to him? _Why_ does he hate me so much?” Harry asked miserably.

“I don’t know, Harry. I don’t know…” she replied quietly, glancing at Draco who was watching in concern. “I wished my mother was here so I could ask her. She knew him at school.”

“Sarah…” Harry began, hesitating slightly. “Your mother – you’ve only talked about her in past tense…did – did something happen to her?” he asked softly.

Sarah sighed and pulled their group out of the main stream of people heading to lunch.

“She died earlier this year,” she admitted. “It was really sudden.”

Harry stared at her and then wrapped her in a tight hug, burying his face in her hair. Ron had a pained look on his face, sympathy shone in his blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry mumbled, the words muffled by her hair. “If you ever need to talk or cry or – or anything…I’m here.”

Hearing those words from someone who had also lost their mother – who really _knew_ the pain which encompassed her – meant more to Sarah than she could ever explain. She gripped Harry tightly and nodded.

She pulled back and smiled at her friends. “You don’t have to worry about me, really. I’ve got you guys to help me if I need it,” she said.

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid’s voice rang out, saying, “ _Back,_ Fang – _back_.”

Hagrid’s big, hairy face appeared in a crack as he pulled the door open.

“Hang on,” he said. “ _Back_ , Fang.”

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

“Make yerselves at home,” said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

“This is Ron, Sarah and Draco,” Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

“Another Weasley, eh?” said Hagrid, glancing at Ron’s freckles. “I spent half me life chasin’ yer twin brothers away from the forest.” He turned to Sarah and Draco.

“An’ you two…well, yeh both look the same as yer parents,” said Hagrid, looking at Draco’s blonde hair in particular. “Yeah, I knew ‘em. Yer mother was always runni’ around with Harry’s parents, Sarah.”

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but the boys pretending to enjoy them while Sarah steered clear. They told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry’s knee and drooled all over his robes.

Sarah was delighted to hear Hagrid fall Filch “that old git.”

“An’ as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D’yeh know, every time I go ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it.”

Harry told Hagrid about Snape’s lesson. Hagrid told him not to worry about it, that Snape likes hardly any of the students.

“Harry, he only tolerates Sarah and me because I’m his godson and Sarah’s my best friend,” stated Draco. “If he wasn’t as close as he was to our families, he would treat us the same as everyone else.”

“But he seemed to really _hate_ me.”

“Rubbish!” said Hagrid. “Why should he?”

Sarah noticed that Hagrid didn’t quite meet Harry’s eyes when he said that.

“How’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Ron. “I liked him a lot – great with animals.”

Sarah wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons and Harry read a cutting about a Gringotts break-in from the _Daily Prophet_ , Sarah dropped her rock cake to Fang.

The bloodhound had just finished crunching down on the remainder of Draco’s rock cake when Harry suddenly shouted, “Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might’ve been happening while we were there!”

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn’t meet Harry’s eyes this time. He grunted and offered Harry another rock cake. Sarah grabbed the cutting and showed Draco. _The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day_. Draco shrugged and obviously didn’t know what vault it was talking about. Sarah knew she would have to ask Harry about it later.

As the group walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they’d been too polite to refuse, Sarah noticed that Harry looked deep in thought. Something was troubling him and she could only hope that he wouldn’t try to deal with it on his own.


	4. Chapter Four

After dinner, Sarah and Draco were relaxing in the common room on the same couch they had claimed the night before when Blaise appeared in front of them.

“Flying lessons!” he declared, waving a piece of paper in excitement. “They start on Thursday – Gryffindor and Slytherin are going to be learning together.”

“Really?” Draco exclaimed, sitting up from where he had been laying in Sarah’s lap. “Let me see!”

He ripped the paper from Blaise’s grip and eagerly read it. Sarah and Blaise stared at each other in stunned humour at his antics. Draco had always loved flying – he had dreamed of being on the Quidditch team since he was young and always practised with Sarah in his family’s Quidditch pitch.

By the time Thursday came around, Sarah was ready to tie Draco to a broom and let it loose just to get a moment of peace. He had been talking about the flying lessons nonstop for days and she had reached the end of her patience.

When they arrived on the grounds for their first lesson at three-thirty that afternoon, Sarah marched up to where the Gryffindors stood in a group, dragging Draco behind her.

“He’s your responsibility now – I can’t stand it any longer. If I have to hear one more word about flying techniques but I might actually go insane,” she announced, flinging Draco at Harry. The two boys stumbled together to stay upright as Ron looked on and laughed.

It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

Twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

“Well, what are you all waiting for?” she barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

Sarah glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles, nothing at all like her and Draco’s brooms at home.

“Stick out your hand right hand over your broom,” called Madam Hooch at the front, “and say ‘Up!’”

“UP!” everyone shouted.

Harry and Draco’s brooms jumped into their hands at once, with Sarah’s following half a second later, but theirs were some of the few that did. Hermione Granger’s had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville’s hadn’t moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid; there was a quaver in Neville’s voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.

“Mr Malfoy,” she said, pausing in front of Draco. “Your hands are meant to be in the opposite positions.”

“I’m left-handed,” replied Draco.

“Oh…very well, then. Just make sure you keep a tight grip with your left hand to balance correctly,” Madam Hooch explained.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” said Madam Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. One my whistle – three – two – “

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch’s lips.

“Come back, boy!” she shouted, but rising Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. Sarah saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and –

WHAM – a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face was white as his.

“Broken wrist,” Sarah heard her mutter. “Come on, boy – it’s all right, up you get.”

She turned to the rest of the class.

“None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch’. Come on, dear.”

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Crabbe burst into laughter.

“Did you see his face, the great lump?”

Goyle joined in and the two of them began guffawing loudly.

“Shut up, Crabbe,” snapped Parvati Patil.

“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” said Tracey Davis, the hard-faced Slytherin who was one of Sarah’s other roommates. “Never thought _you’d_ like fat little cry-babies, Parvati.”

“Shut up, Tracey!” shouted Sarah. “No one asked for your opinion!”

“And no one asked for you to be here! You should have followed your mother!” shrieked Tracey.

“HOW DARE YOU - !” Draco roared. He took a step closer to Tracey before Harry and Ron managed to stop him. Sarah stood in shock as Tracey’s words registered, then white-hot anger bubbled up in her.

“Never,” she hissed in a low voice, “ _Never_ , talk about my mother.”

Tracey had the good sense to step back with a fearful look on her face.

“Look!” said Crabbe, darting forward and snatching up something out of the grass. “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.”

A Remembrall glittered in the sun. Sarah thought that Ron mentioned something about it this morning in class but was still too angry to remember clearly.

“Give that here, Crabbe,” said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Crabbe smiled nastily.

“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?”

“Give it _here_!” Harry yelled, but Crabbe had taken a few great running leaps toward the forest before pelting the Remembrall high into the air. It soared toward the trees before reaching the peak in its flight.

Harry grabbed his broom.

“ _No!_ ” shouted Hermione as Harry mounted his broom and pushed off against the ground. “Madam Hooch told us not to - !”

Sarah watched in amazement as Harry raced toward the glass ball, which had begun to fall back toward the earth. He stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

Sarah and Draco rushed over and helped him to his feet.

“What were you _thinking?_ ” cried Draco, brushing grass off Harry’s robes.

“HARRY POTTER!”

Sarah’s heart sank as Professor McGonagall ran toward them.

“ _Never_ – in all my time at Hogwarts – “

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “ – how _dare_ you – might have broken your neck – “

“It wasn’t his fault, Professor – “

“Be quiet, Miss Deaumont – “

“But Crabbe – “

“That’s _enough_ , Mr Malfoy. Potter, follow me, now.”

Sarah caught sight of Crabbe and Goyle’s triumphant faces as Harry walking head-down in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode toward the castle. The rest of the class watched in silence as they disappeared from view.

“You two are the most disgusting pieces of scum I have ever had the misfortune to meet!” hissed Sarah at Crabbe and Goyle. She stalked up to them and slapped Crabbe across the face, smiling in delight at the gasps that echoed from the students.

Draco walked up to her and took her hand. The two of them led the rest of the class back to the castle as the bell chimed for the end of the lesson.

***

“You’re _joking._ ”

It was dinnertime. Sarah and Draco had disregarded the expectation of sitting at your House table and instead had placed themselves opposite Ron and Harry. Harry had just finished telling them what had happened when he’d left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he’d forgotten all about it.

“ _Seeker_?” he said. “But first years _never_ – you must be the youngest House player in about – “

“ – century,” said Harry, shovelling pie into his mouth. “Wood told me.”

“How are you so _calm_?” shrieked Sarah. “You just got put the Quidditch team _and_ you didn’t get any punishments! Look! You’ve even broken Draco.”

Draco was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat there and gaped at Harry.

“I start training next week,” said Harry. “Only don’t tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.”

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

“Well,” said George in a low voice. “Wood told us. We’re on the team too – Beaters.”

“I tell you; we’re going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year. Sorry snakes, you have no chance,” said Fred with a nod to Sarah and Draco. “We haven’t won since Charlie left, but this year’s team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us.”

“Anyway, we’ve got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new secret passageway out of the school.”

Sarah jumped up as Fred and George left and quickly raced after them. “Wait up!”

“Hello, little Deaumont,” said Fred, patting Sarah on the head lightly. “Whatever can we do for you?”

“Sod off, I’m not _that_ little,” claimed Sarah as she brushed off his hand.

“Well…“

“Anyway, that’s not the point!” she interrupted. “I need your help with something.”

As she explained her idea to the twins, their eyes lit up brightly. Wide smiles adorned their faces.

“Oh, I like you. I like you a lot, little Deaumont,” said George.

“So, can you do it?” asked Sarah.

“Can we do it?” Fred asked in amusement. “Of _course,_ we can do it, love. Let it to us.”

“Brilliant, thank you both!” squealed Sarah as she jumped up and wrapped the twins in a group hug.

She dropped to the ground and raced back to the Great Hall, where she saw Crabbe and Goyle towering over Harry, Ron and Draco.

“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?” Sarah heard Crabbe drawl. She crept up behind the two oafs and shouted, “ _BOO_!”, causing them to jump and spin around. She had already darted to beside Draco and waved cheerfully at them when they scowled at her.

“Not so brave are you?” said Harry coolly.

“I’d take you on anytime on my own,” said Crabbe. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?”

“Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling around. “I’m his second, I’m guessing Goyle’s yours?”

Crabbe glowered at Ron. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room; that’s always unlocked.”

When they had left, Ron and Harry looked at each other.

“What _is_ a wizard’s duel?” said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?”

“Well, a second’s there to take over if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Crabbe’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway – “

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” interrupted Sarah. “You are not even going to discuss this – Harry you are _not_ going to duel Crabbe. It’s stupid and he definitely won’t show up!”

“She’s right, Harry,” agreed Draco. “Crabbe will use this as an opportunity to get you in trouble.”

“And if he does show up?” argued Harry.

“Then he gets in trouble for being out after curfew and you get a good night’s sleep,” Sarah said in a chiding tone. “If I find out you went out to meet Crabbe, Harry Potter, losing points will be the _least_ of your worries.”


	5. Chapter Five

Sarah was visibly fuming at the Slytherin table the next morning, eyes fixed on the door, waiting for Harry to walk through the doors.

Draco had told the others to stay away else they wanted a utensil forcibly attached to their body.

Finally, the dark-haired haired boy sauntered into the room beside Ron, looking tired but cheerful. Sarah’s hand clenched around her fork as she stood up and stalked toward him.

“HARRY JAMES POTTER!”

The words echoed across the hall and everyone fell silent. Harry glanced up in surprise, his face quickly melting into terror. He tried to back-track out of the hall but Ron, being a loyal friend, pushed him closer to Sarah.

She reached him and grabbed his ear, dragging him out of the hall and out on to the grounds.

“Sarah – What? – Ouch!” spluttered Harry as he stumbled down the front steps.

Sarah ignored him and released him, pushing him toward the lake.

“How. _Dare_. You?” she hissed, waving the fork around dangerously close to Harry’s face. “How could you have been – been _stupid_ enough to actually go to meet Crabbe? Did you use your abnormally _minuscule_ brain at all to think of what might have gone wrong? You could have been found – _expelled_ – Merlin, you could have been KILLED by that beast! I cannot _believe_ you, Harry Potter!”

Sarah stood there with her arms crossed glaring at the cowering boy.

“Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?” she demanded in a tight voice.

Harry was silent for a moment before he stepped forward, gently uncrossing her arms before cautiously wrapping his own around her.

“I’m sorry I went to duel Crabbe. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you or think about consequences,” Harry apologised, hands tentatively removing the fork from Sarah’s grasp. “I’m sorry that I worried you and I promise to always listen to you in the future.”

Sarah pulled back and smacked him on his arm.

“You better,” she said. “Or else next time I _will_ stab you.”

“I have no doubt about that,” agreed Harry.

“Ugh, come on. I’m hungry now,” sighed Sarah. She took back her fork and grasped Harry’s hand with the other.

“Okay. I do have one question though,” began Harry. “How did you know we went out?”

“Hermione told me this morning,” answered Sarah. “And no, you cannot get angry with her – she was just worried about you.” Sarah glared fiercely at Harry, who nodded and continued on without argument.

When they got back to the entrance hall, they saw Draco and Ron leaning against the door frame.

“Is it safe?” called Draco.

“Yes, you git,” Sarah replied with a fond smile.

“Brilliant. I’m starving,” Ron chimed in.

“Of course you are Ronald.”

***

Harry filled Sarah and Draco in on what happened the night before. Hermione had only mentioned pieces of it, but apparently Crabbe had tipped Filch off that somebody would be in the trophy room and when they rushed to escape, they found themselves in the third-floor corridor. It turned out that there was a giant three-headed dog guarding a trap door behind one of the locked doors. Harry also explained that when Hagrid had taken him to Diagon Alley on his birthday, they had stopped to pick up a mysterious package from Gringotts. Harry believed that the package was being now guarded by the dog.

“It’s either really valuable or really dangerous,” noted Ron.

“Or both,” said Harry.

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn’t have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall, as usual, everyone’s attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Sarah watched in quiet amazement as the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of Harry, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the first letter and read it out to the others in a whisper.

“Do not open the parcel at the table. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don’t want everybody knowing you’ve got a broomstick or they’ll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o’clock for your first training session. Professor McGonagall.”

“Wow, subtle,” scoffed Sarah, running her hands over the package.

“A Nimbus Two Thousand!” Ron moaned enviously. “I’ve never even _touched_ one.”

They all left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall, they found their way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe seized the package from Harry and felt it.

“That’s a broomstick,” he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. “You’ll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren’t allowed them.”

Ron couldn’t resist it.

“It’s not any old broomstick – “ he started.

“Ron, shut up!” hissed Draco, hitting his friend in the ribs.

“What would you know, Weasley, you couldn’t afford half a handle of a broomstick,” Crabbe snapped. “I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig.”

Before anyone could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Crabbe’s elbow.

“Not arguing, I hope, boys?” he squeaked.

“Potter’s been sent a broomstick, Professor,” said Crabbe quickly.

“Yes, yes, that’s right,” said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. “Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?”

“A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir,” said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Crabbe’s face. “And it’s really thanks to Crabbe here that I’ve got it,” he added.

Harry, Ron, Sarah and Draco headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Crabbe’s obvious rage and confusion.

“Well, it’s true,” Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, “If he hadn’t stolen Neville’s Remembrall I wouldn’t be on the team…”

“So I suppose you think that’s a reward for breaking rules?” came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry’s hand.

“I thought you weren’t speaking to us?” said Harry.

“Yes, don’t stop now,” said Ron, “it’s doing us so much good.”

“Be nice, you two!” snapped Sarah, looking apologetically at Hermione.

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.

“We’re going to be late for class. Harry, put the broom in your dormitory and we’ll unwrap it at dinner,” said Draco as the bell tolled for class.

That evening, the four of them ate dinner quickly at the Gryffindor table before rushing upstairs to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand.

They stopped at the end of a corridor on the seventh floor in front of a portrait of a very fat lady dressed in pink silk.

“Those two aren’t Gryffindors. Why have you brought them here?” she asked.

“They’re our friends and we’re taking them to our dormitory,” replied Harry in a polite voice. “Can we please enter? Caput Draconis.”

“They’re not meant to – “

“Please ma’am,” Draco interrupted, “You’ll probably see us a lot in the next few years and it would make you such an efficient portrait to let us in now – learn our names and faces – and in turn, you won’t have to worry about us in the future.” His voice was silky smooth as he gazed imploringly up at the portrait.

“We would be extremely grateful if you allowed us entrance to the common room. Also, may I ask what sort of dress you are wearing? It is absolutely _stunning_ ,” Sarah inquired pleasantly.

“Oh, what a _darling_ , thank you! It’s antique you see – priceless silk and chiffon,” cried the Fat Lady. “You two are more than welcome. Enter, enter!”

The portrait swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall.

“Thank you very much, madam!” Draco bowed, a handsome smile on his face.

The four of them scrambled through the hole – Harry helped Sarah up – and found themselves in a cosy, round room full of squishy armchairs.

“It’s so…” started Sarah.

“… _Red._ ” Draco finished, peering around the room in wonder.

Everything was covered in deep red coverings, from the carpet to the walls. Hints of gold accents were visible around the room but Sarah was too fixated on the rest of it to really notice. Apart from the offensive colour scheme, it looked like a nice place to relax after a long day. It was much warmer in the tower than down in the dungeons but there was still a large fire roaring on the opposite wall. A few people sat in the armchairs strewn across the room, yet no one glanced twice at the Slytherins. Most of the students were used to seeing the pair at the Gryffindor table at meals.

“Good job out there, guys,” commented Harry as he walked toward a set of stairs on the right wall.

“Thank you,” replied Draco, a soft smile on his face.

They raced up to the boy’s dorm. Harry went to one of the four-poster beds and reached underneath, drawing out the wrapped package.

“Wow,” Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry’s bedspread.

Sarah had seen a lot of brooms; the Malfoys had a large collection in their broom shed. But she still thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

As seven o’clock drew nearer, Sarah and Draco said goodbye to Harry and Ron and headed back to their own common room. They collapsed onto what Sarah now referred to as ‘their couch’ and began to struggle through their homework. After an hour, Sarah was ready to stab her eyes out with a quill.

“Sarah? I need your help with something – “ started Pansy.

“Yes! Thank Merlin. I’m coming!” interrupted Sarah. She jumped up and raced to the entrance of the girls dorms, pausing only to kiss Draco on the top of his head.

“Pansy, you are a life-saver. I was sure that Transfiguration was going to be the death of me!” Sarah dramatically declared, throwing herself on top of Pansy’s bed.

“Merlin, you are so dramatic,” huffed Pansy, settling at the end of her bed.

“So,” said Sarah, “what can I help you with?”

“It’s going to sound silly but I want to learn how to braid hair and Millie won’t let me do it to her hair,” Pansy complained, glowering at the brunette on the bed next to us.

“I didn’t want your spindly fingers ripping my hair out,” muttered Millicent. Sarah laughed and sat up.

“You’re no fun, Millicent,” Sarah teased. “Any chance anyone has snacks? We can make a girl’s night out of it.”

“I know one of the older students who can get into the kitchens. I can go ask him now?” said Millicent.

“Brilliant! Can we invite Draco? He absolutely _loves_ slumber parties,” asked Sarah.

Millicent and Pansy shared a glance and shrugged.

“Sure,” said Pansy. “As long as he brings more pillows and blankets.”

“Yes!” Sarah jumped off the bed and followed Millicent out of the room. While Millie went to look for her food contact, Sarah headed to where Draco was still working.

“Draco! Stop working and come with me, we’re having a slumber party tonight,” stated Sarah, piling her leftover homework into her bag.

“What?” Draco muttered, not looking up from his Charms books. She slammed the book closed and put it in his bag.

“I _said_ , we’re having a slumber party tonight in the girls room and you’re invited. You have to bring pillows and blankets, though,” said Sarah.

Draco looked surprised but let himself be dragged towards the boys dorms.

“Are you sure they’re okay with me being there? I mean, won’t they find it weird a boy is there?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fun!” promised Sarah. “You can tell them what you want but I’m not going to say anything if you don’t want me to. I gave you my word, remember?”

“I remember,” he confirmed. 

Sarah smiled at him. “Whatever you want,” she promised sincerely.

Draco smiled and gathered up his extra pillows and blankets, dragging the bundle toward the girls dorms.

They had piled the blankets on the floor between Millicent and Pansy’s beds and brought over Sarah’s bedding. Pansy had lit a few fragrant candles and the soft smell of bergamot and sandalwood floated through the room. Millicent returned after a few minutes with arms laden with desserts and snacks.

“Millie, I love you!” exclaimed Sarah from her place on the floor.

“I’ll accept that considering you are about to be a victim of Pansy’s dagger fingers,” Millie teased, throwing a selection of pastries down on her bed.

“Now, Pans,” began Sarah, “We’re going to start with a simple French braid.”

Draco settled behind her and ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing out the knots.

“Hey, love, can you make your hair slightly longer? It’ll be easier for Pansy to braid,” he asked.

Sarah nodded and closed her eyes. Her mother had taught her how to focus her thoughts on what she wanted to change. She concentrated on growing her hair, changing it from its current shoulder length to mid-back. She felt Draco’s fingers brushing it out as it grew. When she opened her eyes, Millicent and Pansy were staring at her in shock.

“What?” she asked innocently. She could practically feel Draco smirking behind her.

“You’re a metamorphmagus?” cried Pansy. Her dark eyes were wide with shock.

Millicent seemed to have been struck speechless. She wordlessly gaped at Sarah and Draco as they laughed at the two girls.

“Yes, I am,” explained Sarah. “My mother didn’t like me doing it much because my father didn’t know – she wanted me to have the ability to control my future if I had to.”

“That is _so_ cool,” exclaimed Millicent.

“Anyway, ladies. Let us get back to the purpose of this night,” piped Draco.

Sarah relaxed and ate mini apple pies as Draco showed Pansy the various steps to doing a proper braid. When Pansy felt confident enough to try for herself, Draco moved out of the way and Pansy sat behind Sarah.

“Ouch, Pans!” cried Sarah. “Remember, my hair is _attached_ to my head. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Draco laughed as Millicent muttered a quiet, “Told you so”, before eating a large scoop of ice cream.

“Draco, sit in front of me,” commanded Sarah. She moved some cushions around so he could sit in front of her, facing the opposite wall. She slowly began putting small plaits in his hair where it was longest.

“Millie, do we have any smaller hair-ties?” Sarah asked.

“Here you go,” replied Millicent while throwing a new packet at Sarah.

“Done!” Pansy exclaimed, tying off the ends of the braid.

Millicent looked down from her perch on her bed while Draco handed Sarah a small hand-held mirror.

“Not bad for your first try, Pans,” commented Millicent.

“Do you want to try another one?” asked Sarah.

“No, my fingers hurt after that,” complained Pansy. She reached around Sarah and grabbed a cream bun. “ _This_ is what I’m talking about,” she said with a delighted groan.

“Thank Merlin,” muttered Sarah. “I don’t know how much of that my scalp could take. Could you redo it, Draco?”

“Of course, darling,” he said. Sarah changed her hair back to its original length and relaxed as Draco redid her braid. When he finished, she leant up against his chest and passed him a chocolate brownie in thanks.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of storytelling, truth or dare and one minor pillow fight, until finally, they all collapsed on their separate beds, exhausted.

Draco shared Sarah’s bed with her and when she closed her eyes it felt as if they were still at the Manor, going to sleep after a long day. The sounds of Pansy’s snores and Millicent shifting in bed carried Sarah away as she drifted to sleep.


	6. Chapter Six

Perhaps it was because she was now so busy with homework and keeping the boys in check, but Sarah could hardly believe it when she realized that she’d already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt just as familiar to her as home. Her lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning, they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the dungeon. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they’d seen him make Neville’s toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Sarah was partnered with Draco and Harry with Seamus Finnigan (which was lucky for him, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger, whom he still seemed to greatly dislike. It was hard to tell whether Hermione of Ron was angrier about this. According to Harry, she still hadn’t spoken to either boy since the day Harry’s broomstick had arrived.

“Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practising!” squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. “Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too – never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said ‘s’ instead of ‘f’ and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.”

It was very difficult. Sarah looked across the room and Harry and Seamus trying their hardest. They swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Seamus seemed to get so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it – Harry had to put it out with his hat.

Draco seemed to be struggling just as much as Harry. He was staring intently at their feather, a look of complete concentration on his face.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_!” he cried, swishing his wand. The feather fluttered but didn’t rise.

“You need more of a flick at the end,” explained Sarah. She raised her wand and muttered the spell, swishing her wand and flicking it sharply at the end. Their feather rose up and hovered above their desk.

“Well done, Miss Deaumont! Ten points to Slytherin!” squeaked Professor Flitwick. His head was barely visible over the side of their table. “Try once more, Mr Malfoy. I’m sure you can get it!”

Draco took a deep breath and tried again, adding a sharper flick of his wand at the end. He let out a triumphant cry as their feather rose a few inches before falling back to the desk.

“Good job, Mr Malfoy! Take another ten points,” said the Professor.

Ron, at the table next to Harry, wasn’t having much luck.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa!”_ he shouted, waving his long arms around like a windmill.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Sarah heard Hermione snap. “It’s Wing- _gar_ -dium Levi- _o_ -sa, make the ‘gar’ nice and long.”

“You do it, then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, “ _Wingardium Leviosa!_ ”

The feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

“Oh, well done, Miss Granger!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping.

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

“It’s no wonder no one can stand her,” he said to Harry, Sarah and Draco as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, “she’s a nightmare, honestly.”

“Ronald! That’s such a horrible thing to say! Have you even taken the time to get to know her?” cried Sarah in a chiding tone.

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Sarah caught a glimpse of her face – and was horrified to see that she was in tears.

“I think she heard you,” stated Harry.

“So?” said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. “She must’ve noticed she’s got no friends.”

“Ron, you absolute git!” shouted Sarah. She handed her bag to Draco and with a final glare, raced after Hermione.

She spotted Hermione just as the girl pushed her way into a bathroom. Sarah crept inside and saw that it was empty – soft sobs echoed throughout the room.

“Hermione?” she called softly.

“Go _away_ , Sarah!” Hermione cried.

Sarah ignored her and instead made her way toward the single closed cubicle door.

“Hermione, let me in, please,” pleaded Sarah. “Ron’s a git and he shouldn’t have said what he did. You’re not a nightmare.”

“Then why don’t I have any friends, Sarah?” sobbed Hermione, pulling open the cubicle door. Tears streaked down her face and her frizzy brown hair was coming loose from its bun. “He was right – I _don’t_ have any friends. Everyone thinks I’m too – too bossy and a know-it-all and – and no one even _tries_.”

Sarah gathered the other girl close and hugged her tightly as she cried.

“I tried to get to know the girls in my dorm but they’re just so _shallow_. I swear all they care about are boys and makeup!” despaired Hermione.

“Well, it’s a good thing that _I’m_ your friend, then. I couldn’t do makeup to save my life, Draco is much better at that than I am,” stated Sarah, wiping the other girl's cheeks.

“’Mione, I’m serious. I want to be your friend. Draco wants to be your friend. Harry is a bit oblivious and doesn’t realise it yet, but he also wants to be your friend. Ronald, the poor soul, doesn’t realise he needs to get his head out of his own arse and actually be nice for a change. But he’ll get there,” Sarah said with firm persistence. “As for the girls in your dorm, Millie and Pansy can make up for them. Two those are so naturally pessimistic that having you around will do them some good, okay?”

Sarah pulled back to see that Hermione had a teary smile on her face.

“Thanks, Sarah, that means a lot,” said Hermione.

“You’re very welcome.”

The girls stayed in the bathroom chatting until they heard the dinner bell. Hermione’s face was now clear of any evidence that she had been crying and the pair felt extremely close to one another.

“Do you want to go and get dinner?” asked Sarah.

“Truthfully, I’m not that hungry,” admitted Hermione. “Also, I don’t really want to deal with Ron.”

“You could sit at the Slytherin table with Draco and me?” offered Sarah.

“It’s okay. You can go on without me, I might just head straight up to the dormitory,” said Hermione.

“If you’re sure…”

“Yes, go!” Hermione laughed.

Sarah smiled and the pair headed to the door. As they stepped out, a horrid stench reached their noses.

“Can you smell something?” Hermione asked.

It smelt like a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

“Ugh! That is horrendous – “ Sarah gagged.

“Shhhh!” hissed Hermione.

They heard a noise from the end of the corridor – a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet.

“Inside!” cried Sarah, dragging Hermione back into the bathroom and closing the door. The pair huddled in the far cubicle as the heard the footsteps getting closer until suddenly they stopped.

They were about to peer around the door when they heard the distinctive sound of a lock falling into place. They glanced into the main bathroom and Hermione let out a high, petrified scream.

It was a horrible sight. A troll stood just inside the doorway, staring at the girls. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

It blinked at the girls stupidly before uttering a great roar and swinging its club toward them.

“Hermione, look out!” screamed Sarah, pushing the other girl out of the way. The club missed her but hit Sarah in the chest, causing her to slam into the opposite wall. She slid to the floor with a pained groan as her vision blurred. The troll swung its club again and narrowly missed her prone body, smashing a cubicle to pieces.

“SARAH!” shrieked Hermione. She tried to distract the troll by throwing pieces of broken wood at his face. The troll roared and began advancing towards her retreating figure.

Suddenly the door opened and three blurry figures rushed in.

“Confuse it!” shouted Harry’s voice desperately. Sarah saw him seize a tap and throw it as hard as he could at the troll.

The troll stopped a few feet away from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had hit him. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

“Oi, pea-brain!” yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. the troll didn’t even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

“Come on, run, _run_!” Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she resisted, pointing toward where Sarah was half-buried under debris.

“Draco! Get Sarah!” Harry shouted, dragging Hermione away.

Sarah heard quick footsteps and saw a blonde head appear before her.

“Come on, Sarah, we have to move,” he said, gently trying to help her up.

She whimpered and held on tightly. It felt like a vial of acid had broken in her chest and was burning her from the inside out. She looked behind her to see the troll destroy another cubicle, spraying wood everywhere.

“Duck,” she muttered weakly before collapsing to the ground.

Draco yelped and covered her with his body, protecting her from the debris raining down on them.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll’s neck from behind. Sarah watched in a daze as Harry clung on and somehow managed to stick his wand straight up one of the troll’s nostrils.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life:” any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.

Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright and Draco’s face gone very, very white. Ron pulled out his own wand – obviously not knowing what he was going to do he cried the first spell that came to his head: “ _Wingardium Leviosa!”_

The club flew suddenly out of the troll’s hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over – and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner’s head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

It was Hermione who spoke first.

“Is it – dead?”

“I don’t think so,” said Harry, “I think it’s just been knocked out.”

He bent down and retrieved his wand, cleaning it on the troll’s trousers.

“Harry,” Draco anxiously called, “I need your help.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione rushed over to where Draco was leaning over Sarah. Her breathing was ragged and her face was extremely pale.

“Help her up, we need to get her to the hospital wing,” Draco said. The four of them carefully helped Sarah to her feet. She whimpered in pain as Draco put his hands under her knees and on her back and lifted her into his arms. Her head spun and she worried she might pass out.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made them look up. They hadn’t realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat down quickly on the toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Sarah had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white.

“What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look before catching sight of Draco. He glanced down at Sarah and his face paled even further than it was already. He raced across the room and bent over them.

“What happened to her?” he demanded in a low voice.

“She was hit by troll’s club, Professor,” said Hermione. “She pushed me out of the way when it entered the bathroom.”

Snape looked down at Sarah, concern shining faintly in his dark eyes.

“We were in the bathroom and didn’t know about the troll. Harry, Ron and Draco came to find us but it had already entered. If they hadn’t found us, we’d both be dead. It hit Sarah with its club but Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club before it could too much more damage. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone.”

“Well – in that case…” said Professor McGonagall, staring at the five of them, “I will say you were lucky, not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor and Slytherin five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go. We need to get Sarah to the hospital wing, immediately.”

Draco rushed out of the room as fast as he could without hurting Sarah, followed quickly by the Professors and the others.

Madam Pomfrey looked up in surprise when the group crashed through the doors.

“What happened?” she shrieked. She ran over and directed Draco to place Sarah on one of the beds.

“Troll attack,” replied Professor Snape in a dry tone.

Madam Pomfrey tutted in disapproval and waved her wand over Sarah’s body. Multiple lights appeared and hovered above the girl.

“Broken ribs and arm. You’re lucky your lung wasn’t punctured,” Madam Pomfrey said to Sarah.

“She’ll have to stay the night. Skele-gro doesn’t work fast and is not a pleasant experience,” the mediwitch directed toward the teachers. She walked off to get the potion.

“You four need to go back to your dormitories. Sarah will be fine,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Please, Professor, let me stay,” pleaded Draco. “Madam Pomfrey said it won’t be pleasant and I don’t want to leave her here.”

Professor McGonagall looked at him before turning toward Professor Snape. “It’s your call, Severus. The boy is in your House.”

Professor Snape regarded Draco, who fixed the Professor with a determined stare. Professor Snape sighed and said, “There’s no use arguing with him, he’ll stay regardless of what we say.”

Draco beamed and turned back to Sarah, who Madam Pomfrey had been trying to get to drink a goblet of skele-gro.

“Fine, but the rest of you need to go to bed, immediately,” ordered Professor McGonagall. Harry, Ron and Hermione knew better than to argue and, with a wave to Sarah, tromped out of the hospital wing with the two professors following.

Sarah struggled to gulp down the potion and grimaced. “This is horrendous,” she gagged. “It tastes even worse than when you tried to make a cake, Draco.”

Draco laughed and smoothed her hair down, helping her lay down properly on the bed.

“You try to get some sleep, I’ll be right here,” promised Draco.

“Here,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing Sarah a potion vial, “Dreamless sleep. It should help you rest.”

The mediwitch smiled softly and left the pair, retreating back to her office. Draco helped Sarah drink the contents of the vial.

“Bottom’s up.”

It took effect almost immediately and Sarah let the soothing darkness of dreamless sleep engulf her.


	7. Chapter Seven

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. This was something that Draco, Harry and Ron were _very_ excited about. On Sunday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training. Sarah thought it was slightly ironic that it was Slytherin versus Gryffindor. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship and Draco was deeply conflicted.

“It’s just, you’re one of my best friends and I want you to win but also, House spirit! I can’t not support my house,” whined Draco. He had been having this conflict for weeks leading up to the game and at this point, Sarah and the others just knew to stay silent and agree.

“Hmm,” Harry nodded agreeably, “I completely understand.”

He made eye contact with Sarah. She rolled her eyes and he bit back a smile. He turned back to Draco and continued to nod along in agreement as Draco rambled on.

“Alright, darling, enough now. Just wear one Slytherin item and one Gryffindor item, easy. If I have to continue listening to you rant about this I will find someone to Silencio you,” Sarah chimed in with a smile, linking her arm through Draco’s and leading him to class.

It was really lucky that Harry and Ron were friends with Sarah, Draco and Hermione. Sarah didn’t know how they would have gotten through their homework without the other three helping. Harry had so much last-minute Quidditch practice that he would always turn up to the library exhausted and still in his gear. Ron was just unorganised and struggled with understanding the topics. Draco and Hermione were ruthless with studying: they made study schedules for all five of them, set designated times they would meet in the library, got angry at anyone who disrupted their study time, and generally made everyone extremely stressed and stupid.

Sarah on the other hand, made sure she studied hard enough to get top marks but still gave time for relaxation. When she saw Harry and Ron look like they were on the verge of a mental breakdown, she would pull them away and take them down for a walk near the lake, or they would visit Hagrid.

“If they keep this up my brain will explode,” Ron complained on one such outing. “We’re in first year and exams are ages away! Why are they focusing so much on studying now?”

Sarah shrugged. “Draco has always been a dedicated studier. We both like learning new things but he is intent on getting the highest marks he can,” she explained. She frowned and added, “Also his father made it very clear he had to display the expertise of a true Malfoy and that means getting the highest marks in class.”

“Good luck to him with Hermione around,” Ron joked.

“Yeah….” Sarah muttered. She had just had a sudden thought. Draco’s father would react badly if he came home with low marks, but how would he react if Draco came second to a muggleborn – especially one whom Draco had befriended? She pushed that thought away, they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

When even Draco’s incessant studying habits started to annoy Sarah, she would sit with Harry and talk to him about Quidditch. The first Quidditch match was nearing and Harry was getting increasingly more nervous as the days passed.

Sarah taught him that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players – “That’s why you’re perfect for it,” – and that the most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert. Sarah had lent him Draco’s copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ to help him relax when she wasn’t around to smack him across the back of the head and call him an idiot.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since the boys had saved her and Sarah from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before Harry’s first Quidditch match the five of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and Hermione had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Sarah stopped trying to tunnel deeper into Draco’s coat to watch as Snape limped over. He hadn’t seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

“What’s that you’ve got there, Potter?”

It was Draco’s _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Harry showed him the book.

“Library books are not to be taken outside the school,” said Snape.

“Sir, it’s actually my book. I lent it to Harry,” Draco voiced quickly.

Snape glared at him before scowling. “Very well then,” he drawled, limping away from the group.

“Wonder what’s wrong with his leg?” Harry muttered.

“Dunno, but I hope it’s really hurting him,” said Ron bitterly.

***

Sarah and Draco were walking toward the Gryffindor common room to meet the others when they heard voices arguing in the staff room. Being curious little miscreants, the pair of them crept closer and peered inside – and a horrible scene met their eyes.

Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

“Blasted thing,” Snape was saying. “How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?”

Sarah tried to shut the door quietly, but –

“DEAUMONT!”

Snape’s face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes to quickly hide his leg. Sarah gulped.

“Sir, I was just wondering about a potions question – “

“GET OUT! _OUT!”_

Sarah and Draco left before Snape could take any points from them or continue shouting. They sprinted upstairs and rushed into the Gryffindor common room.

“Hey guys,” Harry greeted as the pair made their way across to the others.

“You need to listen to what we just saw!” said Draco. In low whispers, he and Sarah told them what they’d seen.

“You know what this means?” Harry said breathlessly. “He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween. That’s where he was going when we saw him while we were looking for the girls – he’s after whatever it's guarding! And I’d bet my broomstick _he_ let the troll in, to make a diversion!”

Hermione’s eyes were wide.

“No – he wouldn’t,” she said. “I know he’s not very nice, but he wouldn’t try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe.”

“Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something,” snapped Ron. “I’m with Harry. I wouldn’t put anything past Snape. But what’s he after? What’s that dog guarding?”

“What about you two? You’ve both known him longer than us. Do you think he would go after this?” Hermione asked.

Draco and Sarah had one of their silent conversations which came from years and years of friendship.

“Well,” said Draco, “the one thing we know for sure about him, is that he always has a hidden agenda that he won’t tell everybody. In this case, he could be trying to keep it safe for Dumbledore or…”

“…or he _could_ be trying to get it for his own reasons,” Sarah finished. “We don’t have enough information to know for sure that’s what he’s doing. And yes, he isn’t the nicest but he has always been good to Draco and me when we were growing up.”

Sarah went to bed with ideas flowing through her head. She truthfully didn’t know what exactly Snape was capable of – but the expression his face when they had seen his leg wasn’t easy to forget.

***

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

“You’ve got to eat some breakfast,” said Draco to Harry.

“I don’t want anything.”

“Just a bit of toast,” wheedled Hermione.

“I’m not hungry.”

Harry looked terrible. In an hour’s time, he would be walking onto the field for his very first game.

“Harry, you need your strength,” said Seamus Finnigan. “Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team.”

“Thanks, Seamus,” said Harry, watching Seamus pile tomato sauce on his sausages.

Sarah punched Seamus on the arm and shook her head. “Shut up, Seamus, you’re not helping.”

She turned back to Harry and showed a piece of toast at him.

“You need to eat this or you won’t have any energy to play and then you’ll fall off your broom and die, ‘kay?” she stated calmly, topping up his goblet with pumpkin juice. “And if you die, I swear to Merlin I’ll kill you.”

Harry nodded with wide eyes and began eating the toast. Draco arrived once he had finished, falling into the seat next to Sarah.

“Ugh, it is _way_ too early in the morning for this,” complained Draco. He rested his head in his arms on the table and groaned.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” announced Harry. He reached into his bag and drew out a red Gryffindor hat. “This is for you to wear today so you can support me but still support Slytherin.”

He passed Draco the hat, who took it blushed slightly.

“Thanks,” he mumbled gratefully. Sarah quickly reached over and took the hat before he could put it in.

“Your hair is too neat to look nice with the hat on,” she said.

Draco realised a second too late what she was about to do and tried to flee. “Sarah – no – don’t –“

Sarah pounced and ruffled his hair, messing it up until it looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. She placed the hat on his head and brushed his fringe to the side.

“There!” she announced. “You look much more handsome now and less like a pampered prince.”

Draco glared at her and stuck his tongue out. She stuck hers out in return. Everyone watched on in amusement as the two continued to act like children.

“Wow, who knew Draco looks good in red,” said a voice from beside them.

Sarah turned to see Pansy and Millicent standing next to their table. They were both wearing large coats with sweaters underneath and fluffy Slytherin scarves. Both of their lips; however, were painted a deep, startling red.

“I look good in everything, thank you very much,” Draco exclaimed.

“Don’t tease his delicate sensibilities, Pans, he may never recover,” cried Sarah, swooning dramatically onto Harry and fanning her face with the end of her scarf.

“Shove over, Ronald, I feel we may be here for a while,” said Millicent as she clambered into the seat beside the redhead.

“Doesn’t he look handsome, Harry,” Sarah continued, making kissing faces at Draco. “With his cute little beanie and cute little pout.”

She ducked as Draco went to smack her, nearly falling off the bench. Harry burst into laughter and steadied her. Sarah beamed at him.

“Feel better now?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do,” laughed Harry as he reached for another piece of toast.

The group sat chatting for a while longer until a loud voice boomed near them.

“POTTER!”

Oliver Wood had gotten up from his seat and was marching toward Harry.

“Come on, it’s time to go,” said Oliver, waving at the rest of the team along the table.

Harry’s face went suddenly pale.

“You’ll be fine, Harry. We’ll be watching and cheering for you,” assured Sarah. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ruffled his hair. “Off you go.”

Everyone shouted their ‘goodbyes’ and ‘good lucks’ as the team left the hall.

By eleven o’clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron, Hermione, Pansy, Millicent, Draco and Sarah joined Neville, Seamus and Dean Thomas up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers, Ron’s rat, had ruined. It said _Potter for President_ , and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione and Sarah had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours and shifted across the sheet.

“There he is!” Ron shouted, pointing to the entry to the locker room where Harry was following Fred and George out.

“He looks quite ill doesn’t he?” Pansy noted, turning a dial on her binoculars to get a clearer view.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

“Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,” she said, once all the team members were gathered around her. Sarah saw Harry glance over at their group and she waved the corner of the banner. A small smile spread across his face as he turned back to Madam Hooch.

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand at Madam Hooch’s instructions.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too – “

“JORDAN!”

“Sorry, Professor.”

The Weasley twins’ friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

“And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he’s going sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle – that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by the Slytherins – that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goalposts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she’s really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORES!”

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

“Budge up there, move along.”

“Hagrid!”

Ron, Hermione, Draco and Sarah squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

“Any chance I can convince you to let me sit on your shoulders?” Sarah asked cheekily. Hagrid wisely chose to ignore the question.

“Bin watchin’ from my hut,” said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, “But it isn’t the same as bein’ in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?”

“Nope,” said Ron. “Harry hasn’t had much to do yet.”

“Kept outta trouble, though, that’s somethin’,” said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops which made Sarah cheer loudly at him. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. At one point, a Bludger decided to go pelting his way, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

“Slytherin in possession,” Lee Jordan was saying, “Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?”

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry had seen it. He dived downward suddenly after the streak of gold.

“GO HARRY!” Sarah shouted, jumping up and down while shaking Draco’s arm.

The Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch – all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was faster than Higgs – he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead – he put on an extra spurt of speed –

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors – Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry’s broom spun off course, harry holding on for dear life.

“Foul!” screamed the Gryffindors and Draco.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Dean Thomas was yelling, “Send him off, ref! Red Card!”

“What are you talking about, Dean?” said Ron.

“Red card!” said Dean furiously. “In soccer, you get shown the red card and you’re out of the game!”

“But this isn’t soccer, Dean,” Ron reminded him.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean’s side.

“They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air.”

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

“So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating – “

“Jordan!” growled Professor McGonagall.

“I mean, after the open and revolting foul – “

“ _Jordan, I’m warning you_ – “

“All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which would happen to anyone, I’m sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.”

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch.

“What’s happening to Harry’s broom?” Sarah asked Draco, pointing at their friend as the broom bucked again. Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back to the Gryffindor goalposts and then seemed to realise his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn’t seem to turn it. Couldn’t seem to direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

“His broom’s gone haywire!” Draco shouted.

Lee was still commentating and no one seemed to notice Harry’s problem.

“Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes Bell – hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking, Professor – Slytherins score – oh no…”

The Slytherins were cheering. Still, no one seemed to notice that Harry’s broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

“Dunno what Harry thinks he’s doing,” Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. “If I didn’ know better, I’d say he’d lost control of his broom…but he can’t have…”

“it’s been trying to buck him off!” shrieked Sarah. “We need to help him!”

“How?” Draco shouted worriedly.

“I don’t know!”

Sarah was officially panicking. One of her best friends was getting further and further away from safety on a wayward broom. What happened if he fell? Would the Professors be able to react fast enough?

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands.

His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry’s broom had given a while jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand. Sarah screamed his name as she watched in horror at him hanging high above the ground.

“Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?” Seamus whispered.

“Can’t have,” Hagrid said, his voice shaking. “Can’t nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand.”

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid’s binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

“What are you doing?” moaned Ron, grey-faced.

“I knew it,” Hermione gasped, “Snape – look.”

Ron grabbed the binoculars then swore, passing them quickly to Sarah. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath. Sarah passed the binoculars to Draco, feeling suddenly quite ill.

“He’s doing something – jinxing the broom,” said Hermione.

“What should we do?” asked Ron.

“Leave it to me.”

Before anyone could argue, Hermione had disappeared. Ron took the binoculars back and looked again at Harry.

“Come on,” Sarah muttered to Draco. She grabbed his arm and led him toward the end of the row, racing quickly toward the bottom of the stands.

“Where are we going?” Draco gasped as he struggled to keep up.

“We’re getting closer to the ground so we can make sure Harry’s all right when he gets down,” she explained.

“The real importance is _how_ he gets down,” Draco muttered darkly.

Sarah pulled Draco as far down as they could go and looked back up at Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it looked almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

Suddenly there was a ruckus from the stands where Snape was. He was standing up and stamping on his robes as if there were bugs crawling on them.

Harry’s broom had calmed down and he was able to clamber back on. Harry was speeding to the ground when he suddenly clapped his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick – he hit the field on all fours – coughed – and something gold fell into his hand.

“I’ve got the Snitch!” he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

The stadium erupted into cheers as the teams flew down to the ground. Sarah was faster though. She had sprinted across the field with Draco as soon as the whistle had blown.

“HARRY!” She shouted as she launched herself at him, wrapping him tightly in her arms.

“Oof! Hello, Sarah,” he wheezed.

“ARE YOU OK? OH, MERLIN I WAS TERRIFIED!” she shrieked, still gripping him tightly.

“Can’t – breathe – “ groaned Harry.

Draco pulled her off Harry and grabbed the other boy’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Draco asked, eyes wide with concern.

“I’m fine,” assured Harry. “Look, I even managed to get the Snitch!”

Harry beamed as the rest of his team finally broke through and clapped him on the shoulder and back. Sarah clung to Draco as they watched the crowd swarm down from the stands, heading back toward the school.

“Come on you three,” they heard Hagrid say from nearby. “I think we all need a nice cuppa.”

Sarah and Draco grabbed Harry and dragged him away from the crowd, passing Marcus Flint who was arguing with Madam Hooch.

“He didn’t _catch_ it, he nearly _swallowed_ it,” Flint howled.

It made no difference – Harry hadn’t broken any rules. Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results – Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

The group eventually made it to Hagrid’s hut. Ron and Hermione had joined them as the crowd thinned and the six of them were sitting around Hagrid’s large wooden table, drinking carefully from giant mugs of scorching tea.

“It was Snape,” Ron was explaining, “We saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Rubbish,” said Hagrid, who hadn’t heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. “Why would Snape do somethin’ like that?”

The five of them looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry obviously decided on the truth.

“I found out something about him,” he told Hagrid. “He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.”

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

“How you do know about Fluffy?” he said.

“ _Fluffy?_ ”

“Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I leant him to Dumbledore to guard the – “

“Yes?” said Harry eagerly.

Sarah snorted into her tea at Hagrid’s words, earning an elbow in the side from Draco.

“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top-secret, that is.”

“But Snape’s trying to _steal_ it.”

“Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.”

“So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Hermione.

The afternoon’s events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.

“I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!”

“I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly. “I don’t know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all five of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel – “

Sarah choked into her tea this time, coughing silently as her mind registered the name. Draco glanced at her suspiciously and she shook her head quickly.

“Aha!” said Harry, “so there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?”

Hagrid looked furious with himself.


	8. Chapter Eight

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Slytherin common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept close as possible to their hot cauldrons. Sarah had started wearing one of Draco’s jumpers underneath her robes every day to try to fight the chill off – but still, she sat shivering in the classroom.

“I do feel so sorry,” said Tracey Davis, one potions class, “for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they’re not wanted at home.” She was looking over at Harry as she spoke but soon glanced at Sarah. Tracey sneered and continued, “Or for those who don’t _have_ any family.”

Crabbed and Goyle chuckled. Harry and Sarah, who were measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Tracey had been even more unpleasant toward Sarah after the Remembrall incident.

Harry had told Sarah and Draco that he wouldn’t be going back to Privet Drive, where his relatives lived, for Christmas. The Professors had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays. Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because apparently Mr and Mrs Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. Sarah had a sneaking suspicion that the redhead had decided to stay back to keep his best friend company for the holidays.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

“Hi Hagrid, want any help?” Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

“Nah, I’m all right, thanks, Ron.”

“Would you mind moving out of the way?” came Crabbe’s cold sneer from behind them. “Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose – that hut of Hagrid’s must seem like a palace compared to what your family’s used to.”

Ron dived at Crabbe just as Snape came up the stairs.

“WEASLEY!”

Ron let go of the front of Crabbe robes.

“He was provoked, Professor Snape,” said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. “Crabbe was insultin’ his family.”

“Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid,” said Snape sulkily. “Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn’t more. Move along, all of you.”

Crabbe and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

“I’ll get him,” said Rob, grinding his teeth at Crabbe’s back, “one of these days, I’ll get him.”

“I hate them all,” said Harry, “Crabbe, Goyle, Snape.”

“Come on, cheer up, it’s nearly Christmas,” said Hagrid. “Tell yeh what, come with me an’ see the Great Hall, looks a treat.”

So the five of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

“Ah, Hagrid, the last tree – put it in the far corner, would you?”

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

“How many days you got left until yer holidays?” Hagrid asked.

“Just one,” said Hermione. “And that reminds me – guys, we’ve got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

“The library?” said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. “Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren’t yeh?”

“Oh, we’re not working,” Harry told him brightly. “Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we’ve been trying to find out who he is.”

“You _what_?” Hagrid looked shocked. “Listen here – I’ve told yeh – drop it. It’s nothin’ to you what that dog’s guardin’.”

“We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that’s all,” said Hermione.

“Unless you’d like to tell us and save us the trouble?” Harry added. “We must’ve been through hundreds of books already and we can’t find him anywhere – just give us a hint – I know I’ve read his name somewhere.”

“I’m sayin’ nothin’,” said Hagrid flatly.

“Just have to find out for ourselves, then,” said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried out of the hall.

Sarah hesitated near the staircases. She didn’t want to keep looking through endless, dusty tomes about Nicolas Flamel. Draco caught her eye and then grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the dungeons and shouting to the others, “We need to keep packing. We’ll see you at lunch.”

Before the others could answer, the pair had disappeared.

“Ok, spill,” announced Draco when they arrived at Sarah’s dorm.

She sighed and began throwing her clothes into her trunk. Draco reclined on the headboard of her bed and fixed her with his ‘ _I’m not leaving until you talk_ ’ stare.

“My mother was really interested in alchemy and…well…” she paused and dripped the nearest jumper on her bed. “She managed to get in contact with Nicolas Flamel when I was really young. She worked alongside him for a while, just experimenting and such. She never told my father but sometimes she would take me with her and we would sit down together and look at transmutation circles and the laws of equivalent exchange.”

Draco sat wide-eyed on her bed.

“My mother made me promise not to tell anyone about her work – even you. It was hard but I knew she must have had a good reason to ask me,” continued Sarah.

“Why didn’t you mention it earlier? I knew you recognised the name at Hagrid’s but we’ve been looking for weeks,” Draco asked, no judgement just curiosity in his tone.

“I know it’s stupid but…it was like I still wanted to keep my promise to my mother – still wanted her to know she could trust me,” Sarah whispered, head bowed.

Draco held his arm out to her and she walked to it, allowing herself to be pulled on the bed beside Draco.

“I understand,” he said softly, holding her tightly to his chest. “But I have to ask, do you know what the dog could be guarding?”

Sarah nodded and whispered quietly, “I think it’s the Philosopher’s Stone.”


	9. Chapter Nine

Narcissa hugged Draco tightly to her the minute they had stepped off the Hogwarts Express at Platform nine and three-quarters. Once she had finished nearly strangling her son, she drew Sarah in just as tightly.

“It is so good to see you both,” she gushed, brushing Draco’s hair from his forehead. “Let’s go home.”

The Manor hadn’t changed one bit. Even her room was exactly as she left it. Her trunk had been sent to her room by the houses elves and she yelled out a general ‘Thank you!’ before striding to Draco’s room. He was in the process of hanging his clothes neatly in his wardrobe when she breezed in, jumping face-first on his bed in an explosion of pillows and throws.

“Is it weird that I already miss Hogwarts?” she asked, her words muffled by the pillow.

“No, I get it,” replied Draco. “I miss the calm of the grounds and the atmosphere – it feels different in Scotland than here.”

This was the reason that Sarah and Draco were such good friends. They both knew that no matter what they said or felt, the other would understand. No judgement, no questions, just understanding. Sarah was extremely grateful for her best friend and the comfort he provided in the darker days.

“At least we get to practice magic now,” Sarah grinned. “I want to learn the new Charms spell before we get back.”

“I’m so gonna learn that first,” Draco taunted, still calming filling his wardrobes with clothes. Merlin, how many clothes did one boy _need_?

“In your dreams, Beauty Queen.’

“OI!”

***

The first week of the holidays passed quickly. Draco and Sarah did their homework and practised spells under the watchful eye of Narcissa. Lucius, surprisingly, was absent during the days, only appearing for dinner before retreating to his study. Whilst this wasn’t completely unusual for Draco’s father, it was odd that he hadn’t even greeted them when they returned.

“It’s because we’re friends with Harry, Hermione and Ron,” Draco mentioned one evening. They were lying on his bed reading through some of their textbooks.

“Hmm?” said Sarah distractedly, flicking through a complicated explanation of a Charms wand movement.

“My father. He hasn’t spoken to us because we chose them over the ‘right’ friends,” he explained grimly.

Sarah sat up and closed her textbook, keeping a finger on the page to keep her place.

“Draco, I’m sure there’s more to it than that. He’s probably busy with work?” she suggested, hoping to try to ease the guilt Draco was undoubtedly feeling.

“You and I both know that’s not the case, Sarah,” he muttered resignedly.

Sarah didn’t reply. She put her hand over his and squeezed, offering comfort the best way she knew how for this.

They didn’t talk about his father after that. And no mention was made of Sarah’s father either – he still hadn’t contacted her since her mother’s death.

They received letters from Harry, Ron and Hermione, all explaining how their holidays were going. Harry and Ron told them about a massive snowball fight they had with Ron’s brothers and a few of the other remaining students. This news prompted Draco to drag Sarah outside to the snow-covered grounds to have their own snowball fight.

Draco was absolutely ruthless. He pelted Sarah with snowball after snowball until she was on the ground laughing, completely soaked and breathless. The house-elves had brought them dry clothes and hot chocolates when they finally trudged into the house, dripping snow, and collapsed before the fire in exhaustion. Sarah had quickly fallen asleep resting on Draco and he had carried her up to his bed where he soon fell into sleep as well.

The pair got to see Blaise, Pansy, Millicent and Theo on Christmas night when the Malfoys hosted their annual Christmas party. Every year the ballroom in the Manor was decorated with stunning ice sculptures and fairies, with a blanket of fake snow covering the ground. The children were left to their own devices and spent the entire night sneaking food from the large banquet table and daring each other to crack the wizard bonbons scattered around the room. One bonbon had blown up in Draco and Blaise’s faces and left them with soot covering their startled expressions. Draco’s white-blonde hair had turned prematurely grey. Sarah, Pansy, Millie and Theo laughed themselves sick at the reprimanding that both the boys’ mothers gave them for “messing around like idiots!”.

After that, the holidays passed in a blur of packing, shopping and confusion, until finally, Narcissa had taken the pair to the platform. Students and families milled around the platform, tearfully sending their kids back for another term.

“SARAH! DRACO!” Hermione’s shout cut through the crowd’s noise. Sarah whirled to find the bushy-haired girl sprinting toward them.

Narcissa’s eyes tightened slightly but when Hermione reached them, she greeted her politely.

“You must be Hermione,” said Narcissa. “Draco and Sarah have told me lots about you.”

Hermione blushed and said with an outstretched hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Malfoy.”

Narcissa shook the other girl’s hand while Draco watched on nervously. Before anyone could say anything else, a loud whistle pierced the air.

“We need to get on the train,” Draco announced, “Goodbye mother.”

Hermione helped the other two drag their trunks onto the train.

“I found a compartment further down,” she said as the three of them made their way through the train. “Pansy and Millicent are there as well.”

They settled quickly into the compartment and the hours passed by in a blur of conversation.


	10. Chapter Ten

It turned out that Harry and Ron hadn’t done any further research into Nicolas Flamel over the holidays, a fact that Hermione was extremely disappointed about.

Harry also showed them his Invisibility Cloak that he had gotten for Christmas.

“And you’re sure you have no idea who could have sent it to you?” Draco asked again.

“ _Yes_ , I’m sure,” Harry replied, obviously tired of answering the same question over and over again.

“Regardless,” Sarah interrupted, “Draco and I found something in the Manor’s library.”

Draco looked toward her in confusion. She gave him a pointed look and recognition lit in his face.

“Oh…Yes, yes we did,” agreed Draco. Sarah rolled her eyes at him and turned to the others.

“Nicolas Flamel is a famous alchemist. We found a book which talked about his work and it said that he was known for creating the Philosopher’s Stone,” explained Sarah. She wasn’t quite ready to admit that she personally knew the guy so she purposefully left out a few details.

“That must be what Fluffy is guarding!” Hermione squealed.

“What’s the Philosopher’s Stone?” Ron asked.

“It’s basically a substance that will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal,” Sarah explained.

“Oh,” said Harry.

“Oh, indeed,” commented Draco, “But why would Snape want it?”

No one could offer an answer.

Once term had started, everyone was back to skimming through books during their breaks and after class. Poor Harry had even less time than the others because Quidditch practise had started again.

“Wood is working you guys too hard,” commented Sarah one night after Harry had finished practice. The two of them were in the library as Sarah helped Harry finish his mound of homework. The others had returned to their common rooms hours before.

“He has too,” groaned Harry. “Wood told us today that Snape is refereeing the next game. We have to play a clean game or Snape will find any excuse to pick on us.”

He laid his head on top of the book he had been reading and groaned in annoyance. Sarah sighed and began to run her fingers through his tangle of black curls. This motion usually helped calm Draco down and she thought it might work on Harry as well. Surely enough, he sighed contently and his shoulders relaxed.

“The game will go great. Gryffindor has a strong team and works well together,” said Sarah.

Harry grunted in answer but continued to lay on the book. After a few minutes, Sarah realised his breathing had evened out considerably. Harry had fallen asleep at the table.

She chuckled to herself and began quietly packing up their things. It was a Friday so she didn’t have to worry about class early tomorrow. She glanced at the clock to see that curfew was drawing nearer. It would take her ages to help Harry get back to his common room – they would definitely get in trouble.

“Screw it,” she said. She draped the two bags across her shoulders and gently prodded the sleeping boy.

He groaned but didn’t wake up. She poked him harder and said, “Harry wake up, we need to get to the dorms.”

He groaned again but lifted his head, groggily opening his green eyes. He clumsily fixed his glasses which had been sitting crookedly on his face.

“Up you get, sleepyhead,” muttered Sarah as she hauled the boy to his feet. She was surprised by how light he was – she knew he was thin but didn’t realise quite _how_ thin he was, not until she had a hand around his waist to support him and could clearly feel the outline of his ribs through his robes.

She pushed the rising concern deep into her brain and focused on walking Harry toward the Slytherin common room. The dungeons were much closer to the library than the seventh floor and Sarah honestly wasn’t sure if she would have been able to support the majority of his weight up all those stairs.

When they reached the common room, it was thankfully nearly empty. Sarah looked around for Draco. He was sitting on their favourite couch near the fire and was concentrating hard on the letter he was writing.

“Draco!” she whisper-shouted, not wanting to disturb Harry too much. He was half asleep on her shoulder.

Draco looked up in surprise, eyes going wide when he beheld Harry at her side. He hurried over to them and whispered, “Is he okay? What’s he doing here?”

Draco took Harry from Sarah, supporting the other boy’s weight. Sarah led them to Draco’s dorm as she explained, “He’s so run down from Quidditch and school work that he fell asleep in the library while we were working. I couldn’t carry him to his common room so I brought him here.”

“What am I supposed to do with him?” Draco exclaimed quietly.

“I don’t know! Put him in your bed and sleep in mine or something,” Sarah hissed back.

“Why don’t we put him in your dorm?” asked Draco, grunting as he continued to carry Harry.

“Because I don’t want to have to explain why there is a boy in my bed,” replied Sarah.

“You literally just told me to sleep in your bed,” Draco said in exasperation.

“That’s you, you idiot. It’s different,” said Sarah evenly.

They finally made it to Draco’s room and Sarah shouldered open the door, nodding in greeting to Blaise and Theo who were sitting on their beds talking.

“What’s he doing here?” Blaise asked, curiosity lighting his dark eyes.

“Shh! He’s nearly asleep,” Sarah reprimanded.

Blaise mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key and Sarah rolled her eyes at him. She helped Draco lower Harry onto Draco’s bed and began to remove his robes.

“What are you doing?” asked Draco quickly.

“Well, I’m not going to let him sleep in robes, am I?” replied Sarah, staring at Draco calmly. “Get him some of your pyjamas.” Draco’s cheeks went pink but he obediently grabbed a pair of his pyjamas from his trunk.

Blaise and Theo watched in amusement as Sarah efficiently stripped Harry’s robes, shoes and tie off.

“Give him a bit of privacy, you gits,” snapped Sarah, wrenching the hangings of Draco’s bed around her. Draco closed the other side and helped Sarah remove Harry’s shirt and trousers, leaving him in his pants. She quickly pulled on the pyjamas and took off his glasses.

Amazingly, Harry had stayed asleep the entire time. His face relaxed considerably when he was asleep which made him look much younger than he was.

“He looks like a little angel,” Sarah cooed quietly, brushing Harry’s dark hair off his forehead.

“Are we going to talk about how thin he is?” Draco asked carefully, concern written all over his face.

“Not here,” Sarah’s voice had sharpened considerably. She indicated toward where the two other boys were sitting beyond the hangings and Draco nodded in understanding.

The pair retreated, leaving the sleeping boy alone.

“So, is anyone going to explain why we have a Gryffindor passed out in Draco’s bed?” Theo muttered, careful to keep his voice down.

Sarah jumped onto his bed beside him and explained what happened in a quiet voice to him and Blaise.

“So, where are you going to sleep Draco?” Blaise asked. Draco shrugged.

“I’ll bring in my mattress and we can sleep on that,” offered Sarah. “It means Harry won’t wake up with no one here.”

“You could get one of the house-elves to bring a spare mattress,” suggested Theo.

“Good idea,” said Draco.

Theo called for one of the house-elves – how he knew their names, Sarah didn’t know – and before long, another mattress was on the floor beside Draco’s bed, complete with numerous throws and pillows.

“Bets on him waking up and screaming when he doesn’t know where he is?” Blaise joked as the four got ready for bed.

“Don’t be a git, Blaise,” chided Sarah.

“I’m just saying –“

“Shhh!”

Sarah threw a pillow at Blaise to shut him up. A muffled “OOFT” met her ears and she grinned in triumph. The room settled into a calm silence.

“…Can I have the pillow back?”

***

Luckily, Sarah woke up before Harry. She quickly raced to her own room to shower and change and by the time she returned, Harry was still dozing away, completely oblivious that he slept in the Snake’s den.

Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen, but judging from the angry expressions on the other boys’ faces, they hadn’t left without causing some sort of problem.

“Damn, that kid could sleep through a hurricane,” Blaise observed, waving his hand back and forth in front of Harry’s sleeping face.

“Knock it off, Blaise,” Draco said wearily. His hair was mussed up on one side and he looked as if he had just woken up.

Sarah went over to Draco’s trunk and grabbed a set of clothes out of it. She then went and brushed his hair back gently, handing him the clothes.

“Go have a shower, hun. I’ll look after, Harry,” said Sarah. Draco muttered his thanks and kissed the top of her head softly then left the room.

Blaise and Theo explained that Crabbe had had quite the fit when he realised Harry was asleep in their dorm. Only the threat of the four other boys kept him from causing a scene. Apparently Blaise had told them that if they mentioned Harry was in the dorm, the two would be turned into toads for the week. Dull as they were, Crabbe and Goyle believed him and quickly left without any more issues.

Harry finally started to stir and Sarah saw the exact moment he realised he wasn’t in his bed. His body stiffened and he looked around quickly for his glasses. Sarah rushed over and handed him the thin frames.

“Harry, it’s okay,” she said quickly, placing a hand on his thin shoulder. “You fell asleep in the library last night so I brought you to the Slytherin dorms – they were closer.”

He blinked blearily up at her but nodded, sitting up and rubbing his eyes behind his glasses.

Draco had run back into the room half-dressed when he heard Sarah’s words. The two boys made eye contact and both turned slightly pink. Sarah hoped that Blaise and Theo hadn’t noticed the interaction. Draco hurriedly pulled a shirt over his damp hair as Harry asked, “What did you do with my clothes?”

“Sarah changed you into Draco’s pyjamas,” Blaise voiced from the bed beside Harry, a sly smirk covering his face.

Harry turned bright red at the thought of Sarah undressing him. She turned to him and patted his head.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve seen a boy’s chest. Merlin, I lived with Draco for most of last year – he only wears a shirt when he has to,” Sarah teased, smirking toward her fair-haired friend. He stuck his tongue out at her in response.

Sarah began looking through Draco’s trunk, pulling out various jumpers and pants. “Draco and you are around the same size, so you can borrow some of his clothes until you get back to your dorm.” She found a pale knitted sweater and a pair of jeans. She chucked them at Harry and directed him to the bathroom.

“Where did you get those jeans?” Draco asked Sarah as Harry walked toward the bathroom. “I didn’t pack them.”

“I know,” was the smug reply, “I did.”

Sarah and Draco quickly dissolved into an argument about clothes, which cut off when Harry emerged fully dressed.

“I knew that colour would look good on you,” Sarah declared triumphantly.

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored her, instead asking, “Can I go back to Gryffindor now? Hermione and Ron will be wondering where I am.”

“We both know that Ron won’t be awake for at least another hour and Hermione isn’t brave enough to waltz into the boys dorms to wake him up,” said Sarah.

“Unlike you,” Draco muttered behind her.

Harry and Blaise burst into laughter while Theo nodded in amused agreement.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t gotten in trouble yet for the amount of time you spend in each other’s dorms,” Theo noted.

Harry looked surprised. “Wait, boys can go into the girls dorms here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” replied Draco, “Can’t they in Gryffindor?”

“No. Fred tried once and the steps turned into a slide,” Harry revealed.

“Oh, I would have paid to see that!” Sarah exclaimed brightly.

“Ok, enough chatter – time to get the Gryffindork back to his home territory,” Blaise announced dramatically, shooing the three of them out of the door.

Harry stopped briefly to pick up his schoolbag before following Draco and Sarah out into the common room. It was still early enough that only a few students were awake. They peered curiously at the trio before losing interest, going back to what they were previously doing.

Ron was just waking up when Harry, Draco and Sarah walked into the first-year Gryffindor boys dorm.

“Hey mate,” Harry greeted.

Ron, still half-asleep, only grunted in acknowledgement, trudging toward the bathroom.

It was only after he emerged, looking much more clear-eyed, that he registered who was in the room.

“Ah, blimey!” he shouted. “I could’ve been in my bloody underwear, Sarah! A little warning next time would be nice.”

Sarah laughed and threw a blanket at him. “To protect your modesty,” she declared.

Ron just glared at her as Harry and Draco boomed with laughter.

The four of them headed down to the common room to meet up with Hermione.

Harry told the others about Snape refereeing the Quidditch match.

“Don’t play,” said Hermione at once.

“Say you’re ill,” said Ron.

“Pretend to break your leg,” Hermione suggested.

“ _Really_ break your leg,” said Ron.

“Guys!” Sarah warned.

“I can’t,” said Harry, interrupting Sarah. “There isn’t a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can’t play at all.”

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone’s guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognised at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way to Gryffindor Tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except their group. Hermione leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville’s legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

“What happened?” Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron.

“Crabbe,” said Neville shakily. “I met him outside the library. He said he’d been looking for someone to practice that on.”

Sarah glanced at Draco. They both knew that Crabbe had targeted Neville specifically because of this morning’s incident.

“Go to Professor McGonagall!” Hermione urged Neville. “Report him!”

Neville shook his head.

“I don’t want more trouble,” he mumbled.

“You’ve got to stand up to him, Neville!” said Ron. “He’s used to walking all over people, but that’s no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier.”

“There’s no need to tell me I’m not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Crabbe’s already done that,” Neville croaked out.

Sarah moved closer to Neville and put an arm around the shaking boy. “The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn’t it? That’s got to say something. I believe one day you’ll do great things, Neville, and then everyone will know why you belong in Gryffindor,” she vowed, squeezing the boy slightly.

Harry dug into his pocket and removed a Chocolate Frog. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.

“You’re worth twelve of Crabbe,” he said.

Neville’s lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

“Thanks, Sarah, Harry…I think I’ll go to bed…D’you want the card, you collect them, don’t you?”

As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

“Dumbledore again,” he said, “He was the first one I ever – “

He gasped.

“I knew I had read Nicolas Flamel’s name somewhere,” he announced. He turned the card over to show the others where it talked about Nicolas Flamel working with Dumbledore. “That must be why he trusted Dumbledore to protect the stone – they were old friends.”

***

As the Quidditch match drew nearer, Harry became more and more nervous, regardless of assuring the others he was okay. The rest of the team wasn’t too calm, either. Harry had explained to Sarah that overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship would be wonderful – and not just for Gryffindor but also for the other Houses – no one had done it in seven years.

On Friday, after a horrible potions lesson where Snape treated Harry so cruelly that even Sarah couldn’t help flinching, she and Harry sat studying in the library again.

“I have to play, I know that – but I can’t help thinking that Snape has it out for me, for whatever reason,” Harry admitted suddenly.

Sarah didn’t answer immediately. She looked over him and thought about what she knew of Severus Snape. He was close to Lucius and Narcissa but hadn’t spoken much to her father when she was younger. She remembered her mother mentioning once that she and Severus had been friendly enough at school but other than that Sarah didn’t know anything about their potions Professor.

“Harry,” she said carefully, “I don’t know why Snape would have it out for you but I know you need to be careful on Saturday, no matter what,” she placed a hand gently on top of his. “I’m not saying that Snape will try something but you need to concentrate on the game. I don’t want you getting hurt because you were distracted. Leave Snape to me, okay?”

He looked at her for a long moment before nodding, turning his hand under hers so that he could squeeze her hand tightly in thanks.

“Now, I know you have had a long day,” Sarah continued briskly. “But that is no excuse for not finishing your homework. Come on, Potter. I want to see that essay done within the hour.”

Harry snorted and went back to his Charms essay with Sarah occasionally offering pieces of advice or edits. Sarah sat there and thought about her new friend. She wouldn’t let anything happen to him – just like she wouldn’t let anything happen to Draco or Ron or Hermione.

A plan began to form in her mind as she watched Harry work. It wouldn’t change anything drastically – it wasn’t like she could stop Snape from refereeing – but it would comfort her to know that Harry was just that little bit safer.

***

Harry looked slightly pale when the others wished him good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon. Sarah had run down to the pitch just before he was meant to go inside and breathlessly threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked in concern. “You look really tired.”

“I’m fine,” Sarah assured. “Just a long night.”

When Harry entered the locker rooms, Ron and Hermione went to find some free seats in the stands. Sarah drew Draco to one side and explained quietly what she had been doing all night.

Draco, to his credit, looked surprised but impressed and promised to keep an eye out as well. The pair climbed into the stands and settled next to Ron and Hermione in time to catch the end of their conversation.

“Now, don’t forget, its _Locomotor Mortis_ ,” Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.

“I _know_ ,” Ron snapped. “Don’t nag.”

“Guys, don’t worry. I have a plan,” Sarah whispered to them. “Besides, look, Dumbledore’s here.”

She pointed to where the silver beard was glinting in the sunlight on the stands next to them. Maybe that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too.

“I’ve never seen Snape look so mean,” he told the others. “Look – they’re off. Ouch!”

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. Sarah stifled a groan as she saw who it was – Crabbe.

“Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn’t see you there.”

Crabbe grinned broadly at Goyle, who just stared blankly at the game.

“Wonder who long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?”

Ron, wisely, didn’t answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

“You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?” said Crabbe loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. “It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.”

Neville turned bright red but turned in his seat to face Crabbe.

“I’m worth twelve of you, Crabbe,” he stammered.

Crabbe howled with laughter, with Goyle following half a second behind. But Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, “You tell him, Neville.”

“Longbottom, if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.”

Sarah’s nerves were already stretched from lack of sleep and the longer Crabbe talked, the harder she was finding it to restrain herself.

She turned around in her seat and snapped, “Hey, dickhead! Why don’t you shut up about having brains until you find out where yours ran off to all those years ago, okay?”

She turned away from Crabbe’s glowering face as the others burst into laughter around her.

“Guys!” said Hermione suddenly, “Harry - !”

“What? Where?”

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Sarah and Hermione stood up, the latter’s crossed fingers covering her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

“You’re in luck, Weasley, Potter’s obviously spotted some money on the ground!” said Crabbe.

Ron snapped. Before Crabbe knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.

“Come on, Harry!” Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat with Sarah and Draco to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape – Hermione didn’t even notice Crabbe and Ron rolling around under the seats, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville and Goyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches – the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

“Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game’s over! Harry’s won! We’ve won! Gryffindor is in the lead!” Hermione shrieked, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Sarah.

Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He looked startled but happy. Sarah and Draco followed the Gryffindors spilling onto the field, leading Hermione toward Harry. She saw Snape land nearby, white-face and tight-lipped and Dumbledore place a hand on Harry’s shoulder. The Headmaster whispered something to Harry before disappearing.

“You did it!” Hermione cried, launching herself at Harry.

The Gryffindor team was cheering and patting his back or head and he looked so overwhelmed that Sarah grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the crowd toward the locker room. Draco, Hermione and Ron followed.

“Snape was horrible this game,” Ron commented, reclining on one of the wooden benches against the wall. Hermione nodded in agreement and settled beside him while Sarah remained standing. Draco started exploring the room while Harry went to return his broom to its place.

“Harry wasn’t in any danger, I made sure of it,” said Sarah.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked in confusion, halfway through taking off his boots.

Sarah smirked. “I convinced Fred and George to tell me how to get into the kitchens last night and spent most of it convincing the house elves to send a few of them to watch the game and keep an eye on Harry. I only managed it when I summoned Dobby from the Manor and he argued for my sake,” she explained to the three Gryffindor’s stunned faces. “It was quite amusing actually. Dobby is _very_ in awe of you, Harry.”

Before the others could explain further, loud voices greeted their ears as the rest of the team made their way toward the locker rooms. Hermione and Ron jumped up from the seat and Draco stopped exploring.

The team burst through the door in a riot of scarlet and energy. Fred and George immediately veered toward Harry and put their arms around his shoulders.

“There he is – “ Fred began.

“ – the man of the hour!” George cried.

The twins ruffled Harry’s hair and let go, leaving his glasses askew.

Wood was practically glowing with happiness. “Did you see him?” He cried to everyone. “That dive! It was just – I didn’t – I haven’t seen anyone fly like that in _years_!”

Angelina, Alicia and Katie all shook their heads at the boys and grabbed their shower things, nodding at Sarah and the others as they passed. Wood finally noticed the first years but was too happy to tell them off for being in the locker rooms.

“We’re in the lead! We’re in the lead!” he kept repeating, complete euphoria on his face. Fred and George took pity on him and dragged him to the men’s showers, Wood muttering under his breath the entire way.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Hermione announced, grabbing Draco and Ron’s arms and pulling them toward the entrance.

“I’m gonna wait for Harry. We’ll see you at dinner,” said Sarah, settling down comfortably on the bench.

“Love you!” called Draco.

“Love you too!” Sarah replied as he was dragged fully through the door.

Sarah waited patiently as Harry went to shower. She thanked Fred and George for the information about the kitchens when they emerged from the bathrooms, hair dripping and chests bare. They pretended to be aghast at her presence, trying to cover their chests without dropping the towels around their waists. Sarah threw a lonely shoe at them as they laughed and grabbed their and Oliver Wood’s clothes, scurrying back into the bathrooms.

Angelina chatted with her as she dried her hair and Sarah had a lovely time talking to the three older girls. They were complaining about how sexist some Quidditch teams were when Harry finally emerged from the steaming bathroom.

He was dressed in dark jeans that were multiple sizes too large for him and were secured by a belt. Sarah noted that he was wearing Draco’s sweater and smiled to herself. He was towelling his damp hair dry, the dark strands curling haphazardly around his head. The rest of the team slowly trickled out of the locker rooms toward the castle, where dinner would soon be served.

“Odds that Lee has got a party going?” Fred asked as he and George headed toward the door.

George’s reply was lost as the door swung shut, leaving Harry and Sarah alone in the locker rooms.

“You didn’t have to wait,” said Harry, still drying his hair.

“I don’t mind. I thought you might want company on the way back,” replied Sarah.

Harry grinned at her and turned to put his towel back. Sarah looked again at the over-sized jeans.

“I can help make those fit better if you want?” offered Sarah, pointing at his worn pants.

Harry looked startled for a moment then relaxed. “That would be great. Thanks.”

Sarah concentrated, trying to remember a spell her mother had shown her a few years ago. It took her a few attempts but eventually, she was able to make the jeans shrink enough to fit Harry properly.

“Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about their age,” she apologised, tucking her wand back in her pocket.

“That’s alright,” Harry said, waving away her apology. “They were my cousin's anyway.”

Sarah sat in silence as Harry continued to pack his belongings.

“Harry…?” she tentatively asked.

Harry noticed the change in her tone and stopped what he was doing, turning toward her and saying, “Yeah?”

Sarah watched him for a moment before saying, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…But I was wondering why you don’t have your own clothes. Everything I’ve seen you wear is old and way too big for you.”

She watched as he seemed to debate with himself for a moment before sitting down next to her.

“I don’t like talking about this, so if you would keep it to yourself for now I would really appreciate that,” he began. Sarah nodded and Harry continued, “My aunt and uncle don’t really like me very much. They would always give me my cousin’s old clothes – that’s why I don’t have anything of my own. They can be…quite cruel sometimes. They would make me do all the chores around the house and if I did something wrong they would throw me into my cup –, er, my room and not give me dinner.”

Sarah sat in horror for a moment before saying gently, “They starved you, didn’t they? That’s why you’re so thin.”

Harry nodded shallowly and Sarah reached forward, drawing him into a tight hug.

“You didn’t have a room there for a long while, did you?” She guessed when she drew back.

Harry shook his head and sighed, “I used to live in the cupboard under the stairs. It was my bedroom for as long as I can remember. I moved into Dudley’s – he’s my cousin – second room after my Hogwarts letters started arriving. Uncle Vernon thought it might confuse them because it was addressed to my cupboard.” He smiled slightly at the memory of Uncle Vernon’s face turning bright purple at the influx of letters.

Sarah’s voice was full of sympathy when she said, “I’m sorry that happened to you, Harry. I want you to know that you can tell me or Draco anything, okay? We’ll be there for you with no judgement.”

Harry smiled in thanks and gave her another hug.

Because Harry had revealed that to her, Sarah thought she should reveal a secret of her own.

“No one knows how my mother died,” she said, watching as Harry snapped his head up quickly toward her. She looked down at her hands. “One day, I woke up and went into her room. We did this thing where, every morning, we would go outside and sit in the quiet for a few minutes. Draco usually complained every time we did it but I knew he secretly loved it,” Sarah said with a small smile toward Harry.

“Anyway, I went into her room and she was still in bed, so I jumped up and tried to wake her up,” Sarah’s voice went shaky as she remembered that horrible morning. “No matter how much I shook her or shouted at her, she wouldn’t wake up. Then I took her pulse and – “ A tear slid down Sarah’s cheek. She brushed it away quickly and took a steadying breath. “She didn’t have a pulse, she wasn’t breathing, nothing. I screamed and screamed and screamed. For ages I just sat against the wall, watching her. I finally managed to Floo to Draco’s and I just collapsed, screaming for him and shaking. He and Narcissa raced into the room to find me throwing up in front of the fireplace. Somehow I managed to tell them what happened and then Narcissa disappeared into the fireplace. I followed after her despite Draco trying to stop me. After that, everything was a blur. I remember sitting in my mother’s room with Draco holding me, refusing to leave as Mediwitches and Aurors filled the room. No one could find my father but he hadn’t been there for weeks. Eventually, they took her body away and Narcissa took Draco and me back to the Manor. My belongings appeared in the room next to Draco’s within the hour and I’ve stayed with them since.”

She stopped and looked at Harry. Horror and sympathy warred in his green eyes but he just reached for her hand, asking gently, “What about your father? Did they find him?”

Sarah shook her head, “The only time I’ve seen him since her death was after her funeral. He turned up and said that he expected me to adhere to our family’s expectations and traditions and that he wouldn’t be around much for a while. I was never close to my father but I expected something other than ‘be a good pureblood’ – I wanted him to say he was sad that mother had died or at least ask how I was doing. But no – he said what he wanted and then left.” Sarah laughed to herself quietly, a harsh sound that had Harry squeezing her hand tightly in support.

She looked up into his green eyes. “I was drifting for a long time after my mother’s death. It was ruled as a result of sickness but I knew she wasn’t sick – she would have told me. If it wasn’t for Draco I probably wouldn’t have made it through. I was broken and sometimes I’m scared that a part of me will always remain broken,” she admitted, her voice sounding slightly brittle.

Harry gave her a sad smile and made the effort to sound reassuring, “You’re not broken, Sarah. You may think you are but look at how you comforted Neville, how you comforted me,” He made her keep eye contact with him. “I didn’t know my parents but the ache of missing them remains. It’ll never truly go away, but you get stronger as time goes on. You start to live your life the way you know they would want you to. Your mum would be proud of you, Sarah, and you’re just going to keep making her proud.”

Sarah smiled tearily and hugged him, burying her face in his neck. After a few minutes, where Harry stroked a hand up and down her back reassuringly, Sarah withdrew.

“Okay,” she said, smiling widely up at Harry. “I think that’s enough tearful talk for tonight. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Harry laughed brightly and helped her to her feet. Keeping a tight grip on her hand, he grabbed his things and led her to the door. They walked toward the nearby broom shed to drop off his Nimbus Two Thousand when they saw a hooded figure come swiftly down the front steps of the castle.

Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. The lingering warmth from the conversation with Harry drained out of Sarah as she watched. She recognised the figure’s prowling walk and knew Harry did too. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner – what was going on?

“Come on,” muttered Harry, swinging a leg over his Nimbus Two Thousand and pulling Sarah on behind him. She swore silently under her breath as he took off, keeping a tight grip on his waist to avoid falling off. Gliding silently over the castle they saw Snape enter the forest at a run. They followed.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Sarah whispered into Harry’s ear.

“No idea.”

The trees were so thick that they couldn’t see where Snape had gone. They flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. Harry glided toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. Sarah and Harry climbed carefully along one of the branches, Harry holding tight to his broomstick, both trying to see through the leaves.

Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn’t alone. Quirrell was there, too. Sarah couldn’t make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Sarah strained to catch what they were saying.

“…d-don’t know why you want t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus…”

“Oh, I thought we’d keep this private,” said Snape, his voice icy. “Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.”

Sarah and Harry leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Snape interrupted him.

“Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?”

“B-b-but Severus, I – “

“You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a step toward him.

“I-I don’t know what you – “

“You know perfectly well what I mean.”

An own hooted loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. Sarah grabbed his arm and helped steady himself as Snape said, “ – your little bit of hocus-pocus. I’m waiting.”

“B-but I d-d-don’t – “

“Very well,” Snape cut in. “We’ll have another little chat soon, when you’ve had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie.”

He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Sarah could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.

***

“Where have you two _been_?” Hermione squealed as Sarah and Harry dropped into seats at the Gryffindor table. They had flown quickly back to the broom shed and hurried up to the castle, needing to tell the others what they had overheard.

“We won! You won! We won!” shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. “And I gave Crabbe a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Goyle single-handed! He’s still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he’ll be all right – talk about showing them! Everyone’s waiting for you in the common room, we’re having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens.”

Sarah leaned against Draco as she piled food onto her plate.

“Never mind that now,” said Harry breathlessly. “Listen to this.”

He explained in a low whisper everything Sarah and he had seen and heard.

“So we were right, it _is_ the Philosopher’s Stone, and Snape’s trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he how to get past Fluffy – and he said something about Quirrell’s ‘hocus-pocus’ – I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell and Snape needs to break through – “

“So you mean the Stone’s only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?” said Hermione in alarm.

“It’ll be gone by next Tuesday,” groaned Ron.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Quirrell, however, must have been braver than they’d thought. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn’t look as though he’d cracked yet.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Sarah and Draco would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe.

Sarah had confessed to Draco that she thought there was more going on than what they knew.

“I don’t know what it is, but I don’t think Snape would try to steal the Stone – not with Dumbledore here,” she said.

“We just have to keep an eye out,” Draco replied. “See if we’ve missed anything.”

Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Philosopher’s Stone. She had started drawing up study schedules and colour coding all her notes. Harry and Ron wouldn’t have minded, but she kept nagging them to do the same.

“Hermione, the exams are ages away.”

“Ten weeks,” Hermione snapped. “That’s not ages, that’s like a second to Nicolas Flamel.”

“But we’re not six hundred years old,” Ron reminded her. “Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all.”

“What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realise we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They’re very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don’t know what’s gotten into me…”

“Damn, she’s worse than you, Draco,” Sarah muttered.

“Shut up. She’s right, the exams are important,” said Draco. He was currently sorting through both his and Sarah’s collective notes and separating them into subjects while Sarah piled them into different coloured folders. Harry and Ron watched in horror as Sarah and Draco took turns highlighting key points and labelling notes which cross-referenced with each other.

Unfortunately for them, the teacher seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They had piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon’s blood or Draco practising complicated wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with them and Sarah, sometimes managing to escape when Sarah decided she needed a break.

“I’ll never remember this,” Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they’d had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.

“I still think we should’ve studied outside today,” Sarah commented, flipping through yet another page of Transfiguration notes.

“You know what my skin is like in the sun, Sarah,” reminded Draco. “I’ll burn before we finish one set of notes.”

“Well then wear a hat – actually no, wear sunscreen, your hair shines such a bright gold in the sunlight,” she fluttered her lashes at Draco and fanned him with one of her pages.

He scoffed and flicked her away. She turned to Harry, who was looking up “Dittany” in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ and was about to tell him the page number needed when she heard Ron say, “Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”

Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

“Jus’ lookin’,” he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. “An’ what’re you lot up ter?” He looked suddenly suspicious. “Yer not still lookin’ fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?”

“Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “ _And_ we know what that guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St – “

Draco punched Ron on the arm as Hagrid started toward them.

“ _Shhhh_!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “Don’ go shoutin’ about it, what’s the matter with yeh?”

“There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact,” said Harry, “about what’s guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy – “

“SHHHH!” said Hagrid again. “Listen – come an’ see me later, I’m not promisin’ I’ll tell yeh anythin’, mind, but don’ go rabbitin’ about it here, students aren’ s’pposed ter know. They’ll think I’ve told yeh – “

“See you later, then,” said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

“You little Slytherin!” Sarah exclaimed, hitting Harry on the arm. He had the audacity to just look smug.

“What was he hiding behind his back?” said Hermione thoughtfully.

“Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?”

“I’m going to see what section he was in,” said Ron, who’d had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.

“ _Dragons!_ ” he whispered. “Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From the Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper’s Guide_.”

“Hagrid’s always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him,” said Harry.

“But it’s against our laws,” said Ron. “Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It’s hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we’re keeping dragons in the back garden – anyway, you can’t tame dragons, it’s dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie’s got off wild ones in Romania.”

“But there aren’t wild dragons in _Britain_?” said Harry.

“Of course there are,” said Ron. “Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind has to keep putting spells on Muggles who’ve spotted them, to make them forget.”

Sarah was secretly impressed by Ron’s knowledge of dragons.

“So what on earth’s Hagrid up to?” said Hermione.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper’s hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called “Who is it?” before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them.

It was stiflingly hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused.

“So – yeh wanted to ask me somethin’?”

“Yes,” said Harry. There was no point beating around the bush. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’s Stone apart from Fluffy.”

Hagrid frowned at him.

“O’ course I can’t,” he said. “Number one, I don’t know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn’ tell yeh if I could. That Stone’s here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s’ppose yeh’ve worked that out an’ all? Beats me how yeh even know abou’ Fluffy.”

“Well you could say they _literally_ ran into him,” muttered Sarah as she removed her outer robe.

“Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you _do_ know, you know everything that goes on round here,” said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.

Draco seemed to pick up on what Hermione was saying and said, “We only wondered who had _done_ the guarding, really.” He used the type of voice that usually left old ladies smiling down at him, pinching his cheeks and handing him an extra biscuit. Regardless, it seemed to work on Hagrid as well. “We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you.”

Hagrid’s chest swelled at these last words. Harry and Ron beamed at Hermione and Draco while Sarah just lounged there, smirking while patting Fang lightly between the ears.

“Well, I don’ s’ppose it could hurt ter tell yeh that…let’s see…he borrowed Fluffy from me…then some o’ the others did enchantments…Professor Sprout – Professor Flitwick – Professor McGonagall – “ he ticked them off his fingers, “Professor Quirrell – an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.”

“ _Snape_?”

“Yeah – yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped _protect_ the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.”

Sarah knew what Harry, Ron and Hermione were thinking. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything – except, it seemed, Quirrell’s spell and how to get past Fluffy.

“You’re the only person who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren’t you, Hagrid?” said Harry anxiously. “And you wouldn’t tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?”

“Not a soul knows except me an’ Dumbledore,” said Hagrid proudly.

“Well, that’s something,” Sarah muttered to the others. “Hagrid, can we have a window open? I’m boiling.”

“Can’t, Sarah, sorry,” said Hagrid. Sarah noticed him glance at the fire. Sarah looked at it, too. She groaned loudly as she beheld what sat in the fire.

Harry followed her line of sight.

“Hagrid – what’s _that_?” Harry said, clearly already knowing just _what_ exactly it was.

In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

“Ah,” said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, “That’s – er…”

“Where did you get it, Hagrid?” said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.”

“Won it,” said Hagrid. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.”

“But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” said Draco.

“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’,” said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library – _Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit_ – it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause their mothers breathe on ‘em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it a bucket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An’ see here – how ter recognise diff’rent eggs – what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them.”

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn’t.

“Hagrid, you live in a _wooden house_ ,” she said.

But Hagrid wasn’t listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire. Sarah glanced at the others in mild horror – what were they going to do?

***

So now they had something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

“Wonder what it’s like to have a peaceful life,” Ron sighed, as evening after evening they struggled through all the extra homework they were getting. Hermione had finally made study schedules for Harry and Ron, much to the boys’ disappointment. It was driving them nuts.

Sarah had managed to avoid one when she showed Hermione her completed work. “I just use Draco’s schedule,” she said. “Besides, I don’t need to study all the time, I know this stuff and it just makes my head hurt.”

Then, one breakfast time, Sarah saw Hedwig bring Harry a note. She and Draco were sitting at the Slytherin table and catching up with their other friends. Harry hurried over to them and shoved the note under Sarah’s nose. It was from Hagrid. He had written only two words: _It’s hatching_.

“Ron, Hermione and I are going after class,” Harry muttered to her and Draco.

Sarah glanced at Draco and saw the same thought stirring in his eyes.

“We can’t come, Harry,” she whispered softly.

Harry looked shocked. “Why not?” he asked.

“Think about how much trouble we would get in if Draco and I were caught with a –“ she cut off, glancing around quickly before whispering so softly Harry and Draco could barely hear her, “ _a dragon_!”

Draco nodded his head quickly. “You guys would most likely get detention or something but our parents would get involved. It’s not worth it.”

“Hagrid is acting crazy! He can’t possibly know what he’s doing,” Sarah whispered harshly.

Harry squeezed onto the seat between them and said in a low voice, “I don’t know what he’s thinking. But I was thinking of contacting Ron’s brother, Charlie, to see if he can take it somewhere safe.”

“That could work…” Sarah began.

“But how would he get it?” Draco asking, finishing Sarah’s sentence.

Harry shrugged. He glanced around at the other Slytherins, who were looking slightly suspicious and confused as to why a Gryffindor was sat there whispering to Sarah and Draco. Crabbe was watching them intently with a gleam in his eye, looking constantly at the note then their faces, and back again.

“I’ll find you after we’ve gone to Hagrid’s. We can talk more then,” Harry said, quickly standing from the table and going to stride away.

Sarah grabbed his arm before he could and tugged him close enough to say, “Be careful, okay? This might be something that we won’t be able to deal with ourselves.”

Harry nodded and Sarah released him, watching as he walked back to the Gryffindor table.

“What was that about, Deaumont? Why was the little Gryffindor here?” leered Crabbe. He had come up behind them and was standing with his stocky arms crossed over his large chest.

“None of your business, Crab-cakes,” snapped Sarah, turning away from the sneering boy.

Crabbe reached down and placed a hand on the table, sticking his ugly face close to Sarah’s.

“What did you call me, Deaumont?” he asked nastily.

“Bugger off, you git,” Draco said with fire. Crabbe sneered at them once more before lumbering off.

“I have a feeling this isn’t going to end well,” Draco noted, taking a sip of tea.

“I agree,” replied Sarah. She glanced down at the table and gasped. “Draco! Harry’s note is gone!”

Draco choked on his tea and stared at her with wide eyes.

As one, they both turned toward where Crabbe was just leaving the hall.

“Oh no…”

***

Harry and the others met up with Sarah and Draco at lunch. They explained that the dragon had hatched and that Hagrid had immediately cooed over it.

“He called himself its mummy…Its _mummy_ for Merlin’s sake,” Ron repeated in astonishment.

“That’s not the worse part,” said Harry. “Crabbe saw it through the window. How he even knew –?”

“That was our fault,” groaned Sarah. “Crabbe saw the note you brought and came over to taunt us after you left,” she explained to Harry. “We only realised the note was gone after he had left.”

There was nothing they could do. They would just have to wait and see what Crabbe did with the knowledge of the dragon.

Sarah and Draco braved it enough to visit Hagrid once, a week after the dragon hatched. The five of them sat in Hagrid’s darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

“Just let him go,” Harry urged. “Set him free.”

“I can’t,” said Hagrid. “He’s too little. He’d die.”

They looked at the dragon. Apparently it had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn’t been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

“I’ve decided to call him Norbert,” said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. “he really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where’s Mummy?”

“He’s lost his marbles,” Ron muttered too low for Hagrid to hear over his crooning.

“Hagrid,” said Hagrid loudly, “give it two weeks and Norbert’s going to be as long as your house. Crabbe could go to Dumbledore at any moment.”

Hagrid bit his lip.

“I – I know I can’t keep forever, but I can’t jus’ dump him, I can’t.”

Harry suddenly turned to Ron.

“Charlie,” he said.

“Smooth,” Sarah muttered to Draco, who snorted.

“You’re losing it, too,” said Ron. “I’m Ron, remember.”

Sarah and Draco laughed as Hagrid looked on in confusion.

“No, you idiot – Charlie – your brother. In Romania., Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild.”

“Brilliant!” said Ron. “How about it, Hagrid?”

And in the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

***

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione, Harry, Sarah and Draco all sitting along in the Gryffindor common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. Sarah and Draco would be staying the night because Sarah was helping Harry with Charms. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. He had been down at Hagrid’s hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

“It bit me!” he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. “I’m not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon’s the most horrible animal I’ve ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you’d think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.”

There was a tap on the dark window.

“It’s Hedwig!” said Harry, hurrying to let her in. “She’ll have Charlie’s answer. Harry, Hermione and Draco put their heads together to read the note while Sarah examined Ron’s hand.

“You can’t go to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll know it’s a dragon bite immediately and start asking questions,” Sarah said sternly.

“What can I do then?” moaned Ron helplessly, “I have a feeling it’s just going to get worse.”

“Hang on a minute,” said Sarah. She called out in a loud, clear voice, “Dobby!”

A small house-elf appeared with a loud SNAP! Dobby’s green eyes were the size of tennis balls, and they began to tear up upon seeing Sarah.

“Miss Sarah has summoned Dobby! Dobby is very much happy to get what she needs!” squeaked Dobby.

“Hello, Dobby,” Sarah said warmly. “I need you to go to my mother’s old lab and find a box labelled ‘Bite Antidote’ and also her notebook. Can you please bring them here as soon as possible?”

“Of course, Miss Sarah! Dobby will be being back right away.”

With another loud snap, Dobby disappeared.

The others were watching her in confusion.

“My mother experimented with potions and the like. She showed me a selection of antidotes she had made. I hope there’s one in there that can help Ron’s hand,” she explained.

Before the others could say something, Dobby reappeared with a crack.

“Dobby has found what you be asking for, Miss Sarah. Does you need anything else?” Dobby peered up at her and handed over a small box and stained notebook.

“No, Dobby, that’s all, thank you.”

Dobby bowed and quickly disappeared.

“Some would think that Dobby was _your_ house-elf, Sarah and not _mine_ ,” Draco huffed.

“It’s not my fault that you both love me enough to willingly serve me,” Sarah said loftily, flipping through her mother’s old journal.

Ignoring Draco’s splutters behind her, she searched through the box until she found a vial labelled ‘Dragon Bite’.

“This says that if I rub this into the bite it will negate the venom,” Sarah read, peering closely at the old script. “You’ll still need to go to Madam Pomfrey for the bite itself but it won’t be obvious what caused it.”

She turned to Ron and started unwrapping his bandaged hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it, thanks for your help,” said Ron.

“So, what did Charlie say?” asked Sarah as she began spreading the mixture over Ron’s hand.

“He asked if we could get Norbert to the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday. Some of his friends will come to take Norbert while it’s dark,” Harry explained, already writing a reply to Charlie. He attached the note to Hedwig’s leg and gave a quick pet before carrying her to the window.

As Hedwig flew off, Harry said, “We’ve got the Invisibility Cloak. It shouldn’t be too difficult – I think the cloak’s big enough to cover two of us and Norbert.”

“You and Hermione should do it,” said Draco. “Sarah and I shouldn’t get involved and I don’t think Ron’s hand is going to be healed enough by then.”

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the others agreed with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert.

By the next morning, Ron’s bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. Sarah urged him to go to Madam Pomfrey – going so far as dragging him to the Hospital wing by his ear. They said that they didn’t know what had bitten him – just that he had woken up and his hand was like this.

The worse happened when Crabbe came to the Hospital Wing to gloat. Sarah was sitting at the chair next to his bed when Crabbe appeared, towering over her.

“What’s that you’ve got there? _How to Train Dragons For Dummies_?” He sneered.

Sarah ignored him and continued to edit Ron’s Defense essay.

“Too bad that oaf won’t be round long enough to get eaten by his new _pet_ ,” Crabbe continued gleefully.

“Can you just shut up? You’re hurting my brain just standing there,” complained Ron. He reached for another book beside him and accidentally knocked it off the bed.

To both Sarah and Ron’s horror, Charlie’s letter fluttered out from between the pages and opened on the floor at Crabbe’s feet. Sarah lunged for it but Crabbe was faster. He bent down and picked it up, his eyes racing across the page.

“Mr Crabbe, I do believe that is Mr Weasley’s letter,” said Madam Pomfrey suddenly from their left. The Mediwitch had appeared from her office and was now staring disapprovingly at Crabbe.

He just grunted and thrust the letter at Ron, who folded it and quickly put it in his robes, before storming out.

“Miss Deaumont, you need to leave now, please, Mr Weasley needs to rest,” the kindly witch said, placing a variety of potions beside Ron’s bed. Sarah left with a quick nod to Ron.

“It’s too late to change the plan now,” Harry told Hermione the next morning after Sarah had relayed what occurred in the Hospital Wing. “We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we _have_ got the Invisibility Cloak, Crabbe doesn’t know about that.”

The next two days passed quickly. Ron’s hand was gradually getting better but Madam Pomfrey was still suspicious of what bit him. When Saturday night arrived, the five of them had a subdued dinner at the Gryffindor table before Sarah and Draco said goodbye to the others. They thought it would be safer if they stayed in the Slytherin common room so that no one could say they had anything to do with the plan if something went wrong.

Sarah was stroking Draco’s hair as he lay on her lap on their couch in front of the fire when Pansy and Millicent appeared in front of them.

“Okay, spill,” Pansy declared. “You two have been certified balls of anxiety all afternoon – what’s up?”

She pulled out a pot of blood-red nail polish and began expertly painting her nails whilst still managing to glare at the pair.

Millicent nodded in agreement and waved her hand, “Well?” she prompted, “We don’t have all night.”

“You can’t tell anyone, okay?” said Sarah. At the girls’ nods, she explained the dragon and the plan to send it off to Romania.

“Well, Merlin,” Millicent muttered.

“I’m not really surprised, actually,” claimed Pansy. “If anyone was going to foster an illegal dragon, it would be Hagrid. And if anyone was going to try to fix it without just telling a damn Professor, it would be those Gryffindors.”

Draco smirked and muttered, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“Now we just have to hope nothing goes wrong,” said Sarah.

“I doubt that. I saw Crabbe leave about ten minutes ago,” Millie revealed.

“Crap, really?” said Sarah, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was nearly midnight. Neither Sarah nor Draco had realised how much time had passed. Harry and Hermione would be meeting Charlie’s friends and hopefully getting rid of Norbert.

“There’s nothing we can do tonight,” Draco said, sitting up and stretching. “We might as well head to bed and check in with the others tomorrow morning.”

Sarah nodded distractedly as Draco leant over and kissed her lightly on the cheek and padded toward his dorm.

“You guys are so cute,” Pansy commented, finishing the last swipe of her polish.

“Hmm,” Sarah replied before registering the words. “My relationship with Draco is weird to describe. The best thing I can think of is a friend soulmate. I honestly couldn’t imagine myself getting as close to someone as I am with Draco. I can see myself finding someone to love and marry and being extremely close with them but Draco and I have something different – I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.”

Pansy and Millicent nodded and that was the end of the conversation.

The three of them sat there for a few minutes more before Sarah announced, “I’m going to bed, I’m just stressing myself out.”

Millicent stood up and offered Pansy a hand up. “I’m coming too, I’m exhausted.”

“Why didn’t you go to bed sooner?” asked Sarah.

Millicent just shrugged and headed toward their dorm. Sarah had a sneaking suspicion that the two girls had wanted to wait with her to make sure she went to bed and a small warmth blossomed in her chest.

She went to bed worrying about whether Harry and Hermione were alright, whether they had managed to get Norbert safely away, and whether or not Crabbe had caused any issues.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Sarah’s questions were answered the next morning when she and Draco walked past the Gryffindor hourglass that recorded House points.

“Oh, Merlin,” she whispered.

“What?” asked Draco, startled.

Sarah merely pointed at the hourglass.

Gryffindor had previously been in the lead – but now they were a hundred and fifty points fewer. This put them in final place for the House Championship.

“Oh, Merlin,” Draco echoed. “What on earth could have happened?”

They hurried into the Great Hall to find the majority of Gryffindors glaring at Harry, Hermione and Neville. A small circle of empty seats surrounded them and Ron, who was eating breakfast without his usual gusto.

Sarah dropped into a seat beside Harry while Draco took the one opposite her.

“What happened?” she whispered furiously.

Hermione explained miserably how they had gotten caught by Professor McGonagall, who had found Crabbe and Neville wandering around after curfew looking for Harry and Hermione, and had lost fifty points each _and_ got detention.

“I’ve never seen Professor McGonagall _so_ mad,” whispered Hermione in shame.

“But Norbert was taken all right?” asked Draco. He got dull nods in response.

“They’ll all forget this in a few weeks. Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they’ve been here, and people still like them,” Ron reassured.

“They’ve never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?” said Harry miserably.

“Well – no,” Ron admitted.

Harry, Hermione and Neville were all suffering. Harry went from one of the most popular people in Gryffindor – probably the whole school – to one of the most hated. Hermione and Neville didn’t have as bad a time as Harry, because they weren’t as well-known, but nobody would speak to them either. Hermione had stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her head down and working in silence.

Sarah was glad exams weren’t far away. All the studying kept her busy and also allowed Harry to ignore his obvious misery. The five of them spent most nights in the library, working as late as they could, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorise the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions.

“Man, I can’t believe we’re nearly in June,” Ron moaned one night. “Who would have thought that the year would pass this quickly.”

“It’s nearly June?” Sarah asked in surprise. The constant studying had caused her to lose track of the days.

“Yeah,” Ron replied, “It’s the 26th today.”

Draco stiffened slightly next to Sarah as she took a shallow breath.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” she said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Draco followed her and just before she veered for her dorm, grabbed her in a tight embrace.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear.

“I love you, too,” she mumbled in reply.

She walked away, leaving Draco watching her retreating back, worry painted over his face.

***

“Sarah, wake up! You’re going to be late for class!” Millicent shouted.

“I’m not going to class,” was the hollow reply.

Pansy and Millicent stopped what they were doing and looked at each other in concern. Luckily their other dorm mates had already left.

“Are you okay, Sarah?” Pansy asked softly, trying to peel Sarah’s blanket back.

“Yes,” Sarah said bluntly. “I’m just not going to class today.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please leave me alone.”

Soft whispering met Sarah’s ears but she ignored it and burrowed deeper into her bed.

Quick footsteps retreated and she heard the door open. A minute later, fast, heavier footsteps approached.

A soft hand began to stroke through Sarah’s hand and she knew it was Draco before he said anything.

“I’ve got her,” he said to Pansy and Millicent. “Can you please let Professor McGonagall know that Sarah is feeling unwell and we will be late?”

Sarah didn’t listen to their replies. Draco waited until the others had left before asking, “Let me in?”

Sarah shuffled across the bed and felt as Draco climbed in beside her. She turned around so she faced him and he gently wiped the tears off her cheeks.

“I got so distracted by school that I didn’t even realise it was so close,” Sarah wept.

“It’s okay, love,” said Draco softly. “Do you want to skip class today? I’m sure the teachers would understand.”

Sarah was tempted. She could stay here with Draco all day and eat ice cream and cry. But exams were just around the corner, she couldn’t miss class now.

She shook her head. “We need to go; exams are only a few weeks away.”

Draco nodded in understanding and got out of her bed. He began collecting her uniform and school bag, laying both out on Pansy’s bed.

Sarah stepped out of bed and allowed Draco to help her dress. She was still feeling slightly numb like she was watching her life happen from an outside perspective.

They managed to make it to class just on the bell and Draco steered Sarah to a desk at the far back corner. Pansy and Millicent watched in concern but just chose the seats in front of the pair. Blaise and Theo took the desk on their other side.

Class passed in a haze. Draco took notes for them both and redirected their friends’ questions.

Yes, she was okay. No, she doesn’t need anything. No, she doesn’t want to talk about it.

It wasn’t until Charms later in the day that Sarah’s daze was broken through. She was sitting with Harry on her other side and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Sarah,” he pleaded again, “please say something, _anything_.”

“Harry, leave her alone, please,” muttered Draco, one hand taking notes, the other gripping Sarah’s hand tightly.

“Draco, she’s not okay. Did something happen?” the raw concern in Harry’s voice prompted Sarah to turn her head toward him and meet his emerald eyes.

“She would’ve been thirty-one today,” she said quietly.

Harry looked confused for a moment before recognition lit his face.

His voice was soft as he asked, “You found your mum on her birthday, didn’t you? That’s why Draco wasn’t there that morning. It was meant to be the two of you.”

Sarah nodded and rested her head on Harry’s shoulder as fresh tears filled her eyes.

Professor Flitwick had just started walking around the classroom when Draco asked him quietly, “Professor? Can Sarah, Harry and I please be excused?”

“Whatever for, Mr Malfoy?” the tiny Professor squeaked.

He glanced at where Sarah was quietly sobbing into Harry’s shoulder and his eyes grew concerned.

“Very well, take your things. You are dismissed,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” said Draco gratefully.

He grabbed their bags as Harry helped Sarah out of the classroom. Luckily, the door was just behind them and they left without the rest of the class seeing them.

Draco led the way to the Slytherin dorms and in no time, the trio was sitting on the ground beside Sarah’s bed – a boy on either side of her.

They held her as she sobbed, whispering comforting words and touches.

Eventually, her breathing evened and her tears stopped.

“I n-never thought it would b-be this h-h-hard,” she gasped, taking deep, calming breaths.

Harry just continued to stroke her hair gently as Draco called a house elf for some tissues and hot chocolate.

Soon, the three of them were resting against the wall holding steaming cups of hot chocolate.

“It’ll get easier, Sarah,” promised Harry.

“I know,” she sniffled, “I just thought I would be more prepared, you know? But with studying and Norbert and everything, I lost track of the days. And when Ron told me the date I shut down; I couldn’t feel anything.”

They stayed there until the bell rang for lunch.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Harry offered.

Sarah smiled in gratitude but stood up.

“I’m okay. Besides, I didn’t get breakfast,” she joked, her voice still sounding slightly brittle.

The trio walked up to the Great Hall, with Harry and Draco making jokes, trying to cheer her up further. They had just arrived in the entrance hall when they heard a voice shout at them, “Hey Deaumont!”

Sarah turned to see Crabbe stalking toward them, Goyle and surprisingly, Tracey Davis, following him. Daphne Greengrass was hovering back behind the group and unwilling to follow them.

“Leave me alone, Crabbe. I don’t want to deal with you today,” Sarah said wearily, already turning back toward the Great Hall.

“Is that what your mother thought?” Crabbe taunted. Draco whirled toward the other boy.

“Leave her alone,” he growled. A small crowd had begun to form around them.

“Or what?” Crabbe leered. “She’ll go run to mummy? Oh that’s right – she can’t.”

Sarah turned around slowly, heating filling her veins.

“Were you such a disappointment to her that your mother decided she didn’t want to – what was it you said…oh yeah, ‘deal with you today’?” Crabbe’s ugly face lit up as he continued to taunt her. “Why, I’m not surprised she decided to off herself – if you were my child I would’ve done it sooner. It’s a shame she didn’t make more of an impression on your father – he didn’t even bother to stick around.”

Gasps echoed across the hall at his words.

Draco was being held back by Harry and Blaise as he tried to lunge at Crabbe.

“Tell your dog to heel,” Crabbe barked at her.

Sarah snapped.

Red filled her vision and she launched herself at Crabbe, foregoing her wand entirely to simply punch him square in the face.

He staggered back in shock as he drew her fist again, hitting his stomach with as much force as she could muster.

“Don’t. You. _Ever_. Say. A. Word. Against. My. Mother.” Each word was calmly punctuated by a punch. People were trying to pull her off Crabbe but she growled at them and they backed off.

“ENOUGH!”

Professor McGonagall’s voice broke through the buzzing in Sarah’s ears and she fell still, hands falling to her side. Draco raced to her side and examined her hand: her knuckles were cracked and bleeding.

“How _dare_ you brawl like common animals!” Professor McGonagall screeched, nostrils flaring.

“Professor, Crabbe was saying horrible things about her mother!” Harry shouted, surging toward the Professor.

Professor McGonagall pinned him with a look that halted him in his tracks.

“I don’t care what was being said. That is _no_ excuse for fighting like children,” snapped Professor McGonagall.

“You don’t care,” scoffed Sarah. “Of course you don’t care. No one does.” She turned toward the Professor and Draco saw that her eyes had gone horrifyingly empty again. No emotion shone in the brown irises. “Just give me my punishment.”

The surrounding students gaped as they watched Sarah, a model student who never spoke back to a teacher, completely dismiss the Deputy Headmistress.

Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned frighteningly before she too seemed to take in Sarah’s hollow eyes. “Follow me to my office, Miss Deaumont. You too, Mr Malfoy,” she said sternly. “Mr Crabbe, see Professor Flitwick for your punishment.”

The Professor marched toward her office with Sarah and Draco in tow. Draco watched in anguish as all the progress he and Harry had made earlier melted out of Sarah, until she was once again a hollow shell drowning in grief.

“Mr Malfoy, please explain what happened in the hall,” asked Professor McGonagall once they had arrived in her office.

Draco quickly recounted Crabbe’s words and his own actions, then Sarah’s reaction.

“I see,” said Professor McGonagall as she pursed her lips. “I understand why you reacted the way you did, but that does not mean your actions can go without punishment,” she directed this toward Sarah, who didn’t react and remained staring blankly at the Professor.

“Professor, if Sarah is being punished, I should be as well. If Harry and Blaise hadn’t held me back I would have attacked Crabbe first,” Draco appealed.

Professor McGonagall stared at Sarah a long while.

“Very well,” she said tersely. “You will both serve detention. I will send you the details soon.”

Draco nodded in gratitude and Sarah struggled to look Professor McGonagall in the eye. When she managed it, she saw understanding and perhaps a little pride in the older woman’s eyes.

“While I don’t condone fighting, I believe it is important to stand up for oneself,” she said. “You two are dismissed from classes from the rest of the day, please return to your dorm.”

The last thing Sarah heard before she left was Professor McGonagall saying quietly behind them, “And I do care, Miss Deaumont. I do care.”

***

A week before the exams were due to start, Harry and Sarah were walking toward the library one afternoon when they heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As they drew closer, they heard Quirrell’s voice.

“No – no – not again, please – “

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. They moved closer.

“All right – all right – “ they heard Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Sarah didn’t think Quirrell had even noticed them. They waited until Quirrell’s footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry walked toward it before Sarah stopped him.

“Don’t,” she said quietly. “You promised you wouldn’t meddle anymore.”

“You’re right,” replied Harry. “But I think Quirrell has finally told Snape what he needed to know…”

Sarah nodded but didn’t focus too much on it. The past few weeks had been difficult. It felt as though her mother’s death was happening all over again. After her fight with Crabbe in the entrance hall, she had told the others what McGonagall said and why she had reacted the way she had. Since then, her friends had made sure that at least one person was with her at all times, so that she was never alone.

It had taken a few days until she eventually had started to feel better. It was easier to distract herself with studying for exams, but she knew that if she needed to, she could talk to her friends.

She pushed away the negative thoughts and followed Harry back to the library, where Hermione and Draco were testing Ron on Astronomy. They quickly relayed what they had heard.

“Snape’s done it, then!” said Ron. “If Quirrell’s told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell – “

“There’s still Fluffy, though,” said Hermione.

“Maybe Snape’s found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,” said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. “I bet there’s a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?”

The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron’s eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could.

“GO to Dumbledore. That’s what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we’ll be thrown out for sure.”

“But we’ve got no _proof_!” said Harry. “Quirrell’s too scared to back us up. Snape’s only got to say he doesn’t know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor – who do you think they’ll believe, him or us? It’s not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore’ll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn’t help us if his life depended on it, he’s too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he’ll think. And don’t forget we’re not supposed to know the Stone or Fluffy. That’ll take a lot of explaining.”

Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn’t.

“If we just do a bit of poking around – “

“No,” said Sarah flatly, “you’ve done enough poking around.”

Harry nodded in agreement and leant over the map of Jupiter in front of Draco and asked him to test him on the names of its moon.

***

The next morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Hermione, Neville, Draco and Sarah at the breakfast table. Sarah and Draco’s notes automatically went to the Gryffindor table where they were sitting with the others. All the notes were the same:

_Your detention will take place at eleven o’clock tonight._

_Meet Mr Filch in the entrance hall._

_Professor M. McGonagall_

At eleven o’clock that night, Sarah and Draco met up with Harry, Hermione and Neville in the entrance hall. Filch was already there – and so was Crabbe. He still had a blackened eye and split lip from where Sarah had punched him. He glared at Sarah who just ignored him.

“Follow me,” said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.

“I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won’t you, eh?” he said, leering at them. “Oh yes…hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me…It’s just a pity they let the old punishments die out…hand you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I’ve got the chains still in my office, keep ‘em well oiled in case they’re ever needed…Right, off we go, and don’t think of running off, now, it’ll be worse for you if you do.”

Draco drew Sarah closer to his side as they watched Filch hobble toward the forest.

“What a creep,” she muttered in his ear.

They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Sarah wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn’t be sounding so delighted.

The moon was bright, but the clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Sarah could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

“Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.”

Sarah’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn’t be so bad. Filch must have read the relief on their faces because he said, “I suppose you think you’ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again – it’s into the forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.”

At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Draco stopped dead in his tracks, halting Sarah with him.

“The forest?” he repeated, his voice quivering with restrained fear. “We can’t go in there at night – there are all sorts of things in there – werewolves…”

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry’s rob and made a choking noise.

“That’s your problem, isn’t it?” said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you.”

Sarah could feel Draco begin to shake. He had been deathly afraid of forests since he had gotten lost in the one behind the Manor when he was young. They had been playing hide and seek when he accidentally went too deep and fell down an incline. It had taken Sarah and Narcissa hours to find him, cowering and shivering in a small cave a half-mile away from the Manor. To this day, Draco refused to go near the forest near his house and Hogwarts.

“Hey, you’ll be okay,” Sarah whispered to him. “We’ll stay with Hagrid the whole time.”

Draco swallowed and nodded, gripping Sarah’s arm tightly. He was very pale.

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

“Abou’ time,” he said. “I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, guys?” He nodded in greeting to Harry, Hermione, Draco and Sarah.

“I shouldn’t be too friendly with them, Hagrid,” said Filch coldly, “they’re here to be punishment, after all.”

“That’s why yer late, is it?” said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. “Bin lecturin’ them, eh? ‘Snot your place ter do that. Yeh’ve done yer bit, I’ll take over from here.”

“I’ll be back at dawn,” said Filch, “for what’s left of them,” he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Draco now turned to Hagrid.

“I’m not going in that forest,” he said, and Sarah was worried by how panicky his voice was. He was shaking violently under her arm and breathing shallowly.

“I’m sorry, Draco but yeh have to,” said Hagrid, peering down at Draco in concern. “Jus’ stay with me an’ yeh’ll be fine.”

Draco nodded but didn't speak. His face had gone from pale to slightly green-tinged and Sarah was worried that he would throw up at any moment.

“But this is servant stuff, it’s not for students to do. I thought we’d be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was this, he’d – “ started Crabbe.

“ – tell yer that’s how it is at Hogwarts,” Hagrid interrupted with a growl. “Copyin’ lines! What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think yer father’d rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an’ pack. Go on!”

Crabbe didn’t move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but then dropped his gaze.

“Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight, an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.”

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest. Draco looked as if he were about to pass out but he listened carefully to Hagrid’s next words.

“Look there,” said Hagrid, “see that stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in the week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.”

“And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” said Crabbe, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

Draco whirled and threw up in a bush. Sarah rubbed up and down his back as he took deep breaths to recover. Hagrid watched in concern but answered Crabbe.

“There’s nothin’ that lives in the forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,” said Hagrid. “An’ keep ter the path. Right, now, we’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in diff’rent directions. There’s blood all over the place, it must’ve bin staggerin’ around last night at least.”

“I want Fang,” said Crabbe at once, looking at Fan’s long teeth.

“All right, but I warn yeh, he’s a coward,” said Hagrid. “So me, Draco an’ Sarah’ll go one way, an’ Crabbe, Neville an’ Fang’ll go the other. Harry an’ Hermione, yeh’ll follow me an’ the others fer a while before breakin’ off down another path, okay? Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we’ll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an’ practice now – that’s it – an’ if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an’ we’ll all come an’ find yeh – so, be careful – let’s go.”

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and Crabbe and Neville took the right path while the others took the left.

They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Draco was struggling to even his breathing and Sarah was whispering to him reassuringly. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

Sarah saw that Hagrid looked very worried.

“ _Could_ a werewolf be killing the unicorns?” Harry asked.

“Not fast enough,” said Hagrid. It’s not easy ter catch a unicorn, they’re powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before.”

They walked past a mossy tree stump. Sarah could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

“You all right, Draco?” Hagrid whispered. “Don’ worry, it can’t’ve gone far it it’s this badly hurt, an’ then we’ll be able ter – GET BEHIND THAT TREE!”

Hagrid seized Draco and Sarah and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. Harry and Hermione appeared beside them a moment later. Hagrid pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The five of them listened. Draco had closed his eyes tightly and wrapped his arms around himself, still shaking with fear. Something was slithering over dead leads nearby; it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

“I knew it,” he murmured. “There’s summat in here that shouldn’ be.”

“A werewolf?” Harry suggested.

“That wasn’ no werewolf an’ it wasn’ no unicorn, neither,” said Hagrid grimly. “Right, follow me, but careful, now.”

They walked more slowly, ears straining to for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

“Who’s there?” Hagrid called. “Show yerself – I’m armed!”

And into the clearing came – was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and heard, but below that was a horse’s gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Sarah, Harry and Hermione’s jaws dropped. Draco was still in too much of a panic to properly react to the centaur.

“Oh, it’s you, Ronan,” said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?”

He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand.

“Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. “Were you going to shoot me?”

“Can’t be too careful, Ronan,” said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. “There’s summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy an’ Sarah Deaumont, by the way. Students up at the school. An’ this is Ronan. He’s a centaur.”

“We’d noticed,” said Hermione faintly.

“Good evening,” said Ronan. “Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?”

“Erm – “

“A bit,” said Hermione timidly.

“A bit. Well, that’s something.” Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. “Mars is bright tonight.”

“Yeah,” said Hagrid, glancing up, too. “Listen, I’m glad we’ve run inter yeh, Ronan, ‘cause there’s a unicorn bin hurt – you seen anythin’?”

Ronan didn’t answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.

“Always the innocent are the first victims,” he said. “So it has been for ages, so it is now.”

“Yeah,” said Hagrid, “but have yeh seen anythin’, Ronan? Anythin’ unusual?”

“Mars is bright tonight,” Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently. “Unusually bright.”

“Yeah, but I was meanin’ anythin’ unusual a bit nearer home,” said Hagrid. “so yeh haven’t noticed anythin’ strange?”

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, “The forest hides many secrets.”

A movement behind the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and bodied and wilder-looking than Ronan.

“Hullo, Bane,” said Hagrid. “All right?”

“Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?”

“Well enough. Look, I’ve jus’ bin askin’ Ronan, you seen anythin’ odd in here lately? There’s a unicorn bin injured – would yeh know anythin’ about it?”

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward.

“Mars is bright tonight,” he said simply.

“We’ve heard,” said Hagrid grumpily. “Well, if either of you do see anythin’, let me know, won’t yeh? We’ll be off, then.”

Harry and Sarah helped Draco as they followed Hagrid out of the clearing, staring over their shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view.

“Never,” said Hagrid irritably, “try an’ get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin’ closer’n the moon.”

“Are there many of _them_ in here?” asked Hermione.

“Oh, a fair few…Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they’re good enough about turnin’ up if ever I want a word. They’re deep, mind, centaurs…they know things…jus’ don’ let on much.”

“D’you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?” said Harry.

“Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what’s bin killin’ the unicorns – never heard anythin’ like it before.”

They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. Sarah had the nasty feeling they were being watched. She was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path which revealed another path branching off to the side when Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm.

“Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!”

“You four wait here!” Hagrid shouted. “Stay on the path, I’ll come back for yeh!”

They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn’t hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them.

Draco collapsed to the floor and curled up around himself, his arms trapping his knees close to his chest. His face was white as a sheet and his breathing was very fast and shallow – he was hyperventilating.

“Draco, I need you to breathe for me,” Sarah commanded, crouching down beside him.

Draco tried to draw in a deep breath but cut off half-way, choking back a panicked sob.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” she promised. “You’re not trapped here. You’re not lost. You’re not alone.”

Draco managed to take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Good, now another,” said Sarah, rubbing up and down his back gently.

“Does he get panic attacks often, Sarah?” Hermione asked quietly, keeping watch of the surrounding trees.

“He has a severe phobia of forests. He got lost in one as a child and since then he can’t go near one without panicking,” explained Sarah. “I never should have let Hagrid allow Draco to go in.”

“I’ll…be…okay,” Draco gasped. “Just – just need to…to breathe…” He continued to gulp down air, focusing on the soothing feeling of Sarah’s hand on his back. He was slowly calming down, his breath coming easier and easier.

“You don’t think they’ve been hurt, do you?” whispered Hermione.

“I don’t care if Crabbe has, but if something’s got Neville…it’s our fault he’s here in the first place,” Harry whispered back.

The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual and picked up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. Draco’s breathing calmed down back to normal but he was still pale and shaky. Sarah helped him stand on unsteady feet, with Harry supporting his other side.

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid’s return. Crabbe, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Crabbe, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and set up the sparks.

“We’ll be lucky ter catch anythin’ now, with the racket you two were makin’. Right, we’re changing groups – Neville an’ Crabbe, you’ll stay with me, Hermione an’ Draco. Harry an’ Sarah, you two go with Fang. I’m sorry,” Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry and Sarah, “but I’ll need ter keep an eye on Crabbe an’ Neville, an’ Draco isn’ in any condition to go alone. We’ve gotta get this done.”

Sarah nodded and pulled Draco close, hugging him tightly before handing him over to Hermione. She promised to look after him. Then Harry and Sarah set off into the heart of the forest with Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Sarah thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Sarah could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

“Look – “ Harry murmured, holding out his arm to stop Sarah.

Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.

It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Sarah had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

Sarah had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made her freeze where she stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered…Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Sarah and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal’s side and began to drink its blood.

Sarah couldn’t hold back her scream. It pierced the night as Fang bolted into the forest while Harry froze in fear. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Sarah and Harry – unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. Sarah gripped Harry’s arm tightly as it got to its feet and came swiftly toward them – Harry twisted his body in front of her to protect her from the figure – but then cried out in pain.

He staggered backwards; a hand pressed tightly to his forehead. He fell to his knees in pain and Sarah hunched over him, holding him upright and close to her. Sarah heard hooves behind them, galloping, and something jumped clean over them, charging at the figure.

When Sarah looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing before them, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blonde hair and a palomino body.

“Are you all right?” said the centaur as he helped Sarah pull Harry to his feet. Harry seemed to have recovered from whatever pain he had been feeling but his eyes were still slightly cloudy.

“Yes – thank you – what _was_ that?” Sarah shakily asked.

The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead.

“You are the Potter boy,” he said. He turned toward Sarah. “And you are Evelyn Jacobi’s daughter. You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time – especially for you, Potter. Can you both ride? It will be quicker this way.”

Sarah checked that Harry could stand on his own before nodding at the centaur.

“My name is Firenze,” he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so Sarah could clamber onto his back with Harry climbing on behind her.

There was suddenly a sound of galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

“Firenze!” Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have humans on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?”

“Do you realise who this boy is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he and his companion leave this forest, the better.”

“What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?”

Ronan pawed the ground nervously. “I’m sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best,” he said in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his back legs in anger.

“For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys are stray humans in our forest!”

Firenze suddenly reared on his hind legs in anger, so that Sarah had to grab onto his neck to stay on. Harry had a death grip around her waist.

“Do you not see that unicorn?” Firenze bellowed at Bane. “Do you now understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must.”

And Firenze whisked around; with Harry and Sarah clutching on as best as they could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind him.

Sarah didn’t have a clue what was going on.

“Why’s Bane so angry?” Harry asked. “What was that thing you saved us from, anyway?”

Firenze slowed to a walk, warned them both to keep their head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Harry’s question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Sarah thought Firenze didn’t want to talk to them anymore. They were passing a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

“Do you know what unicorn blood is used for?”

“No,” said Harry, startled by the odd question.” We’ve only used the horn and hair in Potions.”

“That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn,” said Firenze.

“I do,” said Sarah. “It keeps you alive, doesn’t it?”

“You are correct, Sarah, daughter of Evelyn. Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenceless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips.”

Sarah stared at the back of Firenze’s head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight.

“But who’d be that desperate?” Harry wondered aloud. “If you’re going to be cursed forever, death’s better, isn’t it?”

Sarah suddenly had a sick feeling growing in her stomach.

“It is,” Firenze agreed, “unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else – something that will bring you back to full strength and power – something that will mean you can never die. Do you children know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?”

“The Philosopher’s Stone,” whispered Sarah in horror.

“Of course – the Elixir of Life! But I don’t understand who – “ said Harry.

“Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?”

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Sarah’s heart. She could tell the moment when Harry figured it out because his breath caught suddenly and his grip around her waist tightened.

“Merlin, no…” she muttered.

“Do you mean,” Harry croaked, “that was _Vol_ – “

“Harry! Sarah! Are you all right?”

Hermione was running toward them down the path, Draco close on her heels. Hagrid appeared puffing along behind them.

“We’re fine,” said Harry. “The unicorn’s dead, Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.”

“This is where I leave you,” Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. “You are safe now.”

Harry slid off Firenze’s back and helped Sarah off.

As soon as her feet hit the ground, Draco crashed into her, hugging her tightly.

“I was so worried – we heard you scream but we couldn’t find you – oh, Merlin,” he babbled, holding her so tight she thought her ribs might start cracking. In his panic for her, his panic of the forest had dissipated.

“I’m okay, I promise,” she said. “We’ll tell you everything back at the castle.”

“Good luck, Harry Potter,” said Firenze. “The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times.”

He turned toward Sarah and peered down at her.

“Your mother was a good woman, Sarah. I was most sad to hear of her passing,” his blue eyes pierced her own. “Stay with Harry, he will need you and his friends in times to come.”

With those words, he turned and cantered back into the depts of the forest, leaving the four children shivering behind him.

***

Sarah and Draco followed the others back to the Gryffindor common room. Ron had fallen asleep in the dark room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him, Hermione and Draco what had happened in the forest.

Sarah couldn’t sit down. She paced up and down in front of the fire, still shivering from the cold and shock.

“Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort…and Voldemort’s waiting in the forest…and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich…” Harry said. His leg bounced up and down in his seat and Sarah knew he was filled with just as much nervous energy as she was.

“Stop saying the name!” said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them.

Harry wasn’t listening.

“Firenze saved us, but he shouldn’t have done so…Bane was furious…he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen…They must show that Voldemort’s coming back…”

“Bane probably thinks that Firenze should have let Voldemort kill you, Harry,” Sarah added, “I suppose that’s written in the stars as well.”

“ _Will you both stop saying the name!_ ” Ron hissed.

“So all I’ve got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone,” Harry went on feverishly, “then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off…Well, I suppose Bane’ll be happy.”

“Enough, Harry,” Draco said sharply. “You’re not going to die and Voldemort’s not going to get the Stone.”

“How can you be so sure?” asked Harry.

Draco placed a hand on Harry’s leg to stop it from bouncing. “ _Because_ , none of us are just going to let Voldemort come and finish you off,” he stated.

Hermione looked very frightened, but she also had a word of comfort.

“Harry, everyone says Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was every afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that’s a very imprecise branch of magic.”

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed exhausted, Sarah to Hermione’s room and Draco to Ron and Harry’s.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

In years to come, Sarah would never quite remember how everyone had managed to get through their exams when they half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Harry, in particular, looked the most nervous – no surprise there though. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across the desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox – points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. He showed a rare display of warmth when he walked passed Draco’s cauldron and muttered, “Well done, Mr Malfoy.”

Sarah knew she did extremely well in the exams. Draco and Hermione were both stressing that they had messed something up but Sarah knew they too had done brilliantly. Harry and Ron did the best they could and Sarah was proud of the effort they put in.

Maybe it was because they hadn’t seen what Harry and Sarah had seen in the forest, or because they didn’t have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ron and Hermione didn’t seem as worried about the Stone as Harry, Draco and Sarah. Harry had revealed that his scar had been giving him stabbing pains in his forehead since the forest.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who’d invented self-stirring cauldrons and they’d be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. Despite the teaching style of the class, Sarah actually greatly enjoyed learning about the History of Magic and was very pleased by her responses. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Sarah watched in amusement as the class cheered.

“That was far easier than I thought it would be,” said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. “I needn’t have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager.”

“Oh, I implemented Elfric the Eager into a point for question twenty-seven,” said Sarah, swinging her and Draco’s clasped hands high between their bodies.

“Hmm, same,” agreed Draco.

Hermione looked confused and horrified for a moment until Ron complained that talking about the test was going to make him ill, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

“No more studying,” Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. “You could look more cheerful, Harry, we’ve got a week before we find out how badly we’ve done, there’s no need to worry yet.”

Harry was rubbing his forehead.

“I wish I knew what this _means_!” he burst out angrily. “My scar keeps hurting – it’s happened before, but never as often as this.”

“Go to Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione suggested.

“I’m not ill,” said Harry. “I think it’s a warning…it means danger’s coming…”

“So dramatic,” Sarah muttered from where she lay on Draco’s lap.

Ron couldn’t get worked up; it was too hot.

“Harry, relax, Hermione’s right, the Stone’s safe as long as Dumbledore’s around. Anyway, we’ve never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he’s not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down.”

Harry nodded and looked out toward the mountains bordering the far side of the lake.

Sarah was just closing her eyes to take a nap when Harry suddenly jumped to his feet.

“Where’re you going?” said Ron sleepily.

“I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry. Sarah opened her eyes at his tone and say that he had turned white. “We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.”

She and Draco clambered to their feet and raced after Harry. She heard Ron swear and the sound of him and Hermione running after them.

“Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd,” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?”

“Oh, Merlin,” Draco muttered, helping Hermione up the slope.

“What are you talking about?” said Ron, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn’t answer.

“Damn him and his Quidditch training,” puffed Sarah and the four of them struggled to keep up with Harry.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

“Hullo,” he said, smiling. “Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?”

“Yes, please,” said Ron, but Harry cut him off.

“No, we’re in a hurry. Hagrid, I’ve got to ask you something. You know the night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing card with look like?”

“Dunno,” said Hagrid casually, “he wouldn’ take his cloak off.”

He saw the five of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not that unusual, ye get a lot o’ funny folk in the Hog’s Head – that’s one o’ the pubs down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn’ he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.”

Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas.

“What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?” Sarah asked breathlessly.

“Mighta come up,” said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. “Yeah…he asked what I did, an’ I told him I was gamekeeper here…He asked me a bit about the sorta creatures I look after…so I told him…an’ I said what I’d always wanted was a dragon…an’ then…I can’ remember too well, ‘cause he kept buyin’ me drinks…Let’s see…yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an’ we could play cards fer it if I wanted…but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn’ want it ter go ter any old home…So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…”

“And did he – did he seem interested in Fluffy?” Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Well – yeah – how many three-headed dogs d’yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy’s a piece o’ cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus’ play him a bit o’ music an’ he’ll go straight off ter sleep – “

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.

“I shouldn’ta told yeh that!” he blurted out. “Forget I said it! Hey – where’re yeh goin’?”

None of them spoke to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

“We’ve got to go to Dumbledore,” said Harry. “Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak – it must’ve been easy, once he got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn’t stop him. Where’s Dumbledore’s office?”

They looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him.

“We’ll just have to – “ Harry began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

“What are you five doing inside?”

It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

“We want to see Professor Dumbledore,” said Hermione, rather bravely, Sarah thought.

“See Professor Dumbledore?” Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. “Why?”

“It’s sort of secret,” Harry said. Sarah groaned and pinned him with a ‘ _you’re such an idiot_ ’ look. Professor McGonagall’s nostrils flared.

“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago,” she said coldly before Sarah could attempt to fix Harry’s mistake. “He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once.”

“He’s _gone_?” said Harry frantically. “ _Now?_ ”

“Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time – “

“But this is important.”

“Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?”

“Look – Harry stop talking, please,” interrupted Sarah before it could get any worse. “Professor – it’s about the Philosopher’s Stone – “

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn’t that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn’t pick them up.

“How do you know - ?” she spluttered.

“A mixture of bad luck and brains,” replied Sarah.

“Professor, I think – I _know_ – that Sn – that someone’s going to try and steal the Stone. I’ve got to talk to Professor Dumbledore,” Harry interrupted. 

She eyed them with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

“Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow,” she said finally. “I don’t know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it’s too well protected.”

“But Professor – “

“Potter, I know what I’m talking about,” she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. “I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine.”

But they didn’t.

“It’s tonight,” said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. “Snape’s going through the trapdoor tonight. He’s found out everything he needs, and now he’s got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.”

“But what can we – “

Hermione gasped. The others wheeled around.

Snape was standing there.

“Good afternoon,” he said smoothly.

They stared at him.

“You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this,” he said, with an odd, twisted smile.

“We were – “ Harry began, obviously without any idea what he was going to say.

“You want to be more careful,” said Snape. “Hanging like this, people will think you’re up to something. And Gryffindor really can’t afford to lose any more points, can it? Draco, you wouldn’t want your father to be informed that you are misbehaving, do you?”

Draco flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.

“Be warned, Potter – any more night-time wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you.”

Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others.

“We’ve got to keep an eye on Snape and Fluffy,” he said.

“Absolutely not,” Sarah said flatly. “We wait in the Gryffindor common room until everyone’s asleep and _then_ we go to the third floor. The teachers will just wonder why we’re hanging around the corridors when everyone else is outside,” she added reasonably.

“All of us?” Harry asked.

“Of course, you dimwit,” said Draco. “You don’t think we’d let you go alone?”

“Of course not,” said Hermione briskly. “How do you think you’d get to the Stone without us? I’d better go and look through my books, there might be something useful…”

“But if we get caught, you all will be expelled, too.”

“They won’t expel us,” Sarah said smugly. “Hermione, Draco and I tied for top of the class – they’re not throwing us out after that.”

***

After dinner the five of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry or Hermione any more. This was the first night that they didn’t seem upset by it. Hermione and Draco were skimming through their notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much, they both looked too deep in thought. Sarah, however, was happily chatting to the twins.

“So how did your planning go for getting back at Tracey?” asked Sarah, swinging her legs from where they hung over the table the twins were doing homework on.

“It’s all done –“ started Fred.

“ – she won’t even know anything’s different until it’s too late,” George finished cheerfully.

“What did you do?” Sarah asked excitedly.

“We hexed her so that any time she said something rude about muggleborns, you, Draco, Harry, anyone, her breath would get gradually worse and worse until no one would be able to stand being in the same room as her!” Fred exclaimed, keeping his voice low enough that the rest of the Gryffindors still in the common room wouldn’t hear.

“It’s something we’ve been working on for a while now,” George explained.

“That’s brilliant!” Sarah grinned.

“It’ll wear off in a few days but should still cause her a bucket load of grief,” said Fred, a mischievous smile on his face. An identical smile graced George’s face as the twins started packing up their books.

“Well, we’re off to bed,” George stated.

“Yeah, we gotta make sure we get our beauty sleep. Not everyone can look as good as we do,” Fred joked, holding a hand out to help Sarah off the table.

“You wish,” she scoffed, taking the offered hand. “I’m prettier than you both combined. No amount of beauty sleep can fix that.”

The twins walked off toward the dormitories, chortling, as Sarah joined Harry on the couch.

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

“Better get the Cloak,” Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upstairs to his dormitory and quickly returned.

“We’d better out the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all of us – it’ll be a tight fit and if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own – “

“What are you doing?” said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he’d been making another bid for freedom.

“Nothing, Neville, nothing,” said Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back.

Neville stared at their guilty faces.

“You’re going out again,” he said.

“No, no, no,” said Hermione. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go to bed, Neville?”

Sarah looked at the grandfather clock by the door. They couldn’t afford to waste any time, Snape ( _or someone_ , she thought) might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

“You can’t go out,” said Neville, “you’ll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.”

“You don’t understand,” said Harry, “this is important.”

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.

“I won’t let you do it,” he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. “I’ll – I’ll fight you!”

“ _Neville_ ,” Ron exploded, “get away from that hole and don’t be an idiot – “

“Don’t you call me an idiot!” said Neville. “I don’t think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!”

“Yes, but not to _us_ ,” said Ron in exasperation. “Neville, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.

“Go on then, try and hit me!” said Neville, raising his fists. “I’m ready!”

“Neville, don’t be ridiculous,” said Draco. “He’s not going to hit you.”

Draco stepped forward as well and Neville turned toward him, his fists still raised.

Harry turned to Sarah.

“ _Do something,_ ” he said desperately.

Sarah stepped forward.

“Neville,” she said, “I’m really, _really_ sorry about this.”

She raised her wand.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” she cried, pointing it at Neville.

Neville’s arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell to toward the ground. Draco and Ron rushed forward to catch him before he hit the ground. They lowered the stiff boy to the ground gently.

Sarah ran over to him. Neville’s jaws were jammed together so he couldn’t speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at them in horror.

“What’ve you done to him?” Harry whispered.

“It’s the full Body-Bind,” said Sarah miserably. “Oh, Neville, I’m so sorry. I had to.”

“We had to, Neville, no time to explain,” said Draco.

“You’ll understand later, Neville,” said Ron as they stepped over him.

Sarah and Draco draped a blanket over his prone figure before turning away, joining the others under the cloak.

It was a tight fit but they managed. But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn’t feel like a very good omen. In their nervous state, every statue’s shadow looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves swooping down on them. More than once, they had to stop the adjust the cloak when someone’s feet became visible.

At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs Norris skulking near the top.

“Oh, let’s kick her, just this once,” Ron whispered. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs Norris turned her lamplike eyes on them but didn’t do anything.

They didn’t meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so people would trip.

“Who’s there?” he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. “Know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?”

He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them.

“Should I call Filch, I should, if something’s a-creeping around unseen.”

Draco suddenly spoke.

“Peeves,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.”

Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.

“So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,” he said greasily. “My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course, I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive of Peevsie his little joke, sir.”

“I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Draco. ‘Stay away from this place tonight.”

“I will, sir, I most certainly will,” said Peeves, rising up in the air again. “Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.”

And he scooted off.

“ _Brilliant_ , Draco!” whispered Harry.

A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar.

“Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly, “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.”

Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all of them what was facing them. Underneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the others.

“Don’t even think about it,” stated Sarah before Harry could speak.

“If you want to go back, I won’t blame you,” he said anyway. “You can take the Cloak, I won’t need it now.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Ron.

“We’re coming,” said Hermione.

“You’re an idiot, Potter,” muttered Draco fondly, shaking his head.

Sarah pushed the door open.

“After you, you self-destructive Gryffindor git,” she announced, waving her hand as grandly as she could in the limited space.

As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog’s noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn’t see them.

“What’s that at its feet?” Hermione whispered.

“Looks like a harp,” said Ron. “Snape must have left it there.”

“It must wake up the moment you stop playing,” said Harry. “Well, here goes…”

He put the flute that Hagrid had made for Christmas to his lips and blew. It wasn’t really a tune, but from the first note, the beast’s eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog’s growls ceased – it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

“Honestly, Harry, you’re tone-deaf,” Sarah murmured as they inched through the door.

“Keep playing,” Ron warned Harry as they slipped out of the Cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog’s hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads.

“If he wasn’t so big, he would be cute,” commented Draco as he peered up at the beast. “Unfortunately, he is a tad bit too terrifying for my taste.”

Ron snorted and crept toward the dog’s paws.

“I think we’ll be able to pull the door open,” said Ron, peering over the dog’s back. “Want to go first, Hermione?”

“No, I don’t!”

“All right.” Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog’s legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.

“What can you see?” Sarah said anxiously.

“Nothing – just black – there’s no way of climbing down, we’ll just have to drop.”

Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at himself.

“You want to go first? Are you sure?” asked Draco.

“I don’t know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to someone so they can keep him asleep,” said Ron.

Harry handed the flute over to Sarah. In the few seconds’ silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment she began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.

“Wow, you’re much better at that than Harry,” Hermione noted in surprise.

“Pureblood upbringing,” Draco replied distractedly. He stepped over Fluffy’s paws and raised a hand to help Hermione and then Harry over.

Sarah crept slowly closer, never faltering in her playing. It was an old tune Narcissa had taught her and Draco when they were young – truthfully, she preferred playing it on the piano in the comfort of the Manor instead of with a flute keeping a giant dog asleep. She gratefully accepted Draco’s offered hand and stepped carefully over Fluffy.

Harry looked down the trapdoor with a determined look on his face. He sat down and lowered himself until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at the others and said, “If anything happens to me, don’t follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?”

Draco scoffed and opened his mouth to reply but Ron beat him to it.

“Right,” said Ron.

“See you in a minute, I hope…”

And Harry let go. Sarah felt as though her heart was plummeting into the darkness with him and judging by the others’ expressions, they probably felt the same.

“It’s okay!” A faint call echoed up through the trapdoor, “it’s a soft landing, you can jump!”

Ron followed right away, quickly shadowed by Draco.

Hermione took one last look at Sarah, saying, “Follow behind me as fast as you can,” before jumping into the hole.

Sarah took a deep breath and pocketed the flute, she didn’t want to land and impale herself on it.

Fluffy had begun to stir the moment she stopped playing but Sarah didn’t stick around long enough to see him wake. She leapt into the hole and held in a scream as she plummeted into the darkness.

Finally, she landed on something soft, groaning at the sudden impact. She felt the _something_ move beneath her and shot up, inching away as she scanned the others.

“We must be miles under the school,” Hermione said.

“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron.

“ _Lucky_!” shrieked Sarah. “Look at you!”

She grabbed Hermione’s arm and struggled toward the far damp wall. They had to struggle because the moment they had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around their ankles. As for the boys, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.

Draco swore loudly and began to fight off the tendrils wrapping themselves around his chest. Sarah watched in horror as the boys fought the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.

“Devil’s….Snare…” Draco choked weakly, his face turning red from the pressure around his chest.

“Stop moving!” Hermione ordered them.

“Oh, I’m so glad we know what it’s called, that’s a great help,” snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.

“Shut up, I’m trying to remember how to kill it!” said Hermione.

“Well, hurry up, I can’t breathe!” Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.

Draco was trying to say something but the plant had succeeded in wrapping tendrils around his throat. Sarah felt a sob rising in her throat – she wished she had paid more attention in Herbology.

“Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare…what did Professor Sprout say? – it likes the dark and the damp – “

“So light a fire!” Harry choked.

“Yes – of course – but there’s no wood!” Hermione cried, wringing her hands.

“HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” Ron bellowed. “ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?”

Sarah didn’t wait for Hermione to recover from her panic. She drew her wand and sent out a stream of the same bluebell flames Hermione had used to set Snape on fire during Harry’s first fateful Quidditch match. It was amusing to hear the story of how Hermione made the Professor lose his concentration but now was not the time to be reminiscing the moment.

In a matter of seconds, the three boys felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravelled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free. Harry ran over to help Draco, who was frantically gasping for breath.

“Lucky you and Draco pay attention in Herbology, Hermione,” said Harry as he helped Draco over to join the two girls by the wall, wiping sweat off his face on the way.

Sarah grabbed Draco and held him tightly, pushing her face into his chest. She let out the sob she had been holding in before straightening, pushing aside her fear to focus on the current situation.

“Yeah,” said Ron, “and lucky Harry and Sarah don’t lose their heads in a crisis – ‘there’s no wood’, _honestly_.”

“This way,” said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.

“Are you alright?” Draco whispered in Sarah’s ear.

“Am I alright? Are _you_ alright? You were the one nearly choked to death by a _plant_!” she gasped, holding tightly onto his hand.

“Thanks to you I’m fine,” he assured, “See? No death here.”

Sarah laughed and squeezed his hand once more.

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Sarah was reminded of the tunnels leading beneath the wizard bank, Gringotts.

“Can you hear something?” Ron whispered.

Sarah listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

“Do you think it’s a ghost?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know…sounds like wings to me,” said Harry.

“There’s light ahead – I can see something moving,” Draco said quietly.

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

“Do you think they’ll attack us if we cross the room?” said Ron.

“Probably,” said Harry. “They don’t look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once…well, there no other choice…I’ll run.”

Before anyone could object, Harry had taken a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. Sarah expected the birds to plummet toward him and peck him with sharp beaks and claws, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled the handle but it looked locked.

The others hurried toward him. When Sarah reached him, she punched him in the arm.

“OUCH!”

“You absolute twat!” she fumed, a thunderous expression on her face. “Do you ever think before running headfirst into danger? Merlin’s pants, _Gryffindors_!” She continued hissing obscenities under her breath as she glared at Harry.

Wisely, Harry chose to ignore her and instead kept trying to tug open the door with Ron and Hermione.

“Hey, geniuses,” Draco said, watching in amusement as the trio tried to use the Alohomora Charm without any success, “those things flying around – they aren’t birds.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione whipped around to look closer at the glittering objects.

“They’re _keys_! Winged keys,” Harry said brightly.

“There you go,” Draco muttered his breath.

“So that must mean…” Harry continued slowly. He looked around at the chamber while the others squinted up at the flock of keys. “…yes – look! Broomsticks! We’ve got the catch the key to the door!”

“But there are _hundreds_ of them!”

Ron examined the lock on the door.

“We’re looking for a big, old-fashioned one – probably silver, like the handle.”

“Well done, Weasley,” Sarah teased. “Who knew you knew so much about keys.”

“Sod off,” Ron muttered with a smile.

“There’s only four broomsticks,” said Draco. He had collected the broomsticks and brought them over to the group.

“I’m staying on the ground,” Hermione stated adamantly.

“Ok then,” said Sarah, grabbing a broomstick, “once we find it, our star seeker will try to catch it while Ron, Draco and I try to herd it toward him. Draco, you keep an eye on it too, I know you have fast reflexes.”

The boys nodded and each grabbed a broom. They all kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. They veered and grabbed and snatched but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one.

Not for nothing, though, as Harry was the youngest Seeker in a century. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn’t. After a minute’s weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, Sarah heard him call out, “That one! That big one – there – no, there – with bright blue wings – the feathers are all crumpled on one side.”

Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.

“Ron you idiot!” shouted Sarah as she circled under him quickly to make sure he stayed in the air. “We’ve got to close on it! Ron, you come at it from above – Draco stay below and stop it from going down – I’ll come at it from the side and Harry will try to catch it from the right. Okay, NOW!”

Ron dived, Draco rocketed upward and Sarah shot to down and to the left, yet the key dodged them all, and Harry streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Harry leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Their cheers echoed around the high chamber.

They landed quickly, with Harry chucking the crumbled key toward Hermione, who ran to the door, the key struggling in her hand. She rammed it into the lock and turned – it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

“Ready?” Harry asked the others, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.

The next chamber was so dark they couldn’t see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

“Oh, Merlin…” Draco uttered into the cavernous room.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Sarah shivered slightly – the towering white chessmen had no faces.

“Now what do we do?” Harry whispered.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” said Ron. “We’ve got to play our way across the room.”

Sarah had never been so grateful for Draco and Ron’s skill at chess. Most nights found the pair having an intense game in the Gryffindor common room while Harry, Hermione and Sarah watched. Draco had taught Sarah chess, and whilst she wasn’t horrible at it, she could never beat him.

“Look,” said Hermione. “Behind the white pieces is a door.” She pointed toward the far end of the room where a pale door stood in the wall.

“But how do we play our way across?” asked Sarah nervously.

“I think,” said Draco, “we’re going to have to be chessmen.”

He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight’s horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Draco.

“Do we – er – have to join you to get across?”

The black knight nodded. Draco turned to the others.

“This needs thinking about…” he said. “I suppose we’ve got to take the place of five of the black pieces…”

He and Ron stood to the side slightly and spoke in low whispers, debating which pieces they should replace and how they should play.

Sarah, Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching them think. Finally, Ron said, “Now, don’t be offended or anything, but none of you are that good at chess – “

“We’re not offended,” said Harry quickly.

“Speak for yourself, Potter, I’m brilliant at chess,” Sarah pouted. The others raised their eyebrows at her and she sighed. “Fine, I’m not. Just tell us what to do.”

“Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Sarah you take the place of the other one. Hermione will go there instead of that rook,” Ron directed.

“What about you two?” asked Harry.

“We’re going to be knights,” Draco said grimly.

Sarah whipped her head up to look at him but he wouldn’t catch her eye.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening because at these words the knights, bishops and a rook turned their back son the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving five empty squares that Sarah, Draco, Hermione, Harry and Ron took.

Draco was right next to Sarah and she tried getting his attention again.

“Draco,” she hissed.

“Not now, Sarah,” he muttered back, watching the board.

“ _Not now_?” she seethed. “You better not be planning to do what I think you are. Don’t be an idiot!”

Draco ignored her and she growled quietly at him in annoyance.

“White always plays first in chess,” said Ron, peering across the board.

Sarah turned her attention back to the board and prayed to any gods listening that her idiot best friend stayed safe.

“Yes…look…” Ron continued.

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Ron and Draco started to direct the black pieces, shouting at each other to confirm moves. The pieces moved silently wherever the boys sent them. Sarah’s knees were trembling. What if they lost?

“Harry – move diagonally four squares to the right.”

Their first real shock came when their other rook was taken. The white queen smashed it to the floor and dragged its crumbling form off the board.

“Had to let that happen,” said Draco, looking shaken. “Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on.”

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron and Draco only just noticed in time that one of the other three were in danger. Both of them darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

Draco suddenly sat up straight, eyeing the board. Sarah watched as he took a deep breath and directed his own piece to move – but instead of taking a piece, he had placed himself in the path of one of the white pieces.

“DRACO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” shrieked Sarah.

“Sarah, STOP!” Ron shouted. Sarah had nearly taken a step forward onto the next square. She leant back and watched in horror as the white piece near Draco began to move.

“No, no, no, no! Ron! Stop him! What is he doing?” sobbed Sarah.

“I – I don’t know, I didn’t think that would happen,” Ron stuttered. He glanced around the board and his face paled, his freckles standing out starkly. “He knew it would have to happen. _Dammit_ , I should have noticed!”

Sarah felt tears stream down her face as the white piece reached Draco, reared up, and smashed him in the side, causing him to fall to the ground in a limp heap. Sarah’s scream echoed throughout the room as the piece dragged Draco’s prone body off the board and placed him next to their other taken pieces.

“We’re nearly there,” Ron muttered suddenly. “Let me think – let me think…”

The white queen turned her blank face toward him.

“Yes…” Ron said softly, “Draco was right…it’s the only way….we were in the way…I’ve got to be taken as well.”

“NO!” Harry, Hermione and Sarah shouted.

“That’s chess!” snapped Ron. “Like Draco’s move – you’ve got to make some sacrifices. He saw that we were both in the way. We had to be taken – that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!”

“But – “

“Do you want to stop Snape or not?”

“Ron – “

“Look, if you don’t hurry up, he’ll already have the Stone. Besides, the sooner we finish the sooner we can check on Draco!”

Sarah had stopped crying at this point and was instead standing quietly, a numb feeling flowing through her body.

“Harry, we have to let him do it,” she said.

The other’s turned to her and saw her face. There was no alternative.

“Ready?” Ron called, his face pale but determined. “Here I go – now, don’t hand around once you’ve won.”

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor – Hermione screamed but stayed on her square – the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he’d been knocked out.

Visibly shaking, Harry moved forward three spaces to the left.

The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry’s feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron and Draco, the other three charged through the door and up the next passageway.

“What if they’re - ?”

“They’ll be all right,” said Harry, reaching over to grip Sarah’s hand tightly. “What do you reckon’s next?”

“We’ve had Sprout’s, that was the Devil’s Snare; Flitwick must’ve put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell’s spell, and Snape’s…” listed Sarah.

They had reached another door.

“All right?” Harry whispered.

“Go on,” Hermione muttered.

Harry pushed it open.

A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making them pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

“I’m glad we didn’t have to fight that one,” Harry whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. “Come on, I can’t breathe.”

He pulled open the next door, the three of them hardly daring to look at what came next – but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

“Snape’s,” said Sarah. “What do we have to do?”

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn’t ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.

“Look!” Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Sarah and Harry looked over her shoulder to read it:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.   
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  
You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;  
Third, as you see clearly, all are different sizes,  
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry looked amazed, both Sarah and Hermione were smiling.

“ _Brilliant_ ,” said Hermione. “This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here forever.”

“But so will we, won’t we?” asked Harry.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course, we won’t,” said Sarah. “Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple.”

“But how do we know which to drink?” asked Harry in confusion.

“Give us a minute,” replied Sarah.

She and Hermione put their heads together to discuss the riddle.

“The second left and second right are poison, which must mean the one’s on their right are nettle wine,” said Sarah.

Hermione read the paper several times. They both walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to each other and pointing at them.

“Neither dwarf nor giant…” Hermione muttered.

Finally, the two of them looked at each other.

“Got it!” they said in unison.

“The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – toward the Stone,” Sarah explained.

Harry looked at the tiny bottle.

“There’s hardly enough for two of us,” he said.

They looked at each other.

“Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” asked Harry.

Hermione silently pointed at a purple-tinged bottle at the left end of the line. “That was how we figured out which one was which,” she explained.

Sarah shook the bottle. “There’s only enough for one person, hardly one swallow.”

She glanced up at the others and was about to offer to drink it before…

“I’ll drink it.”

Sarah and Harry looked at Hermione in surprise.

“I’ll drink it,” she said again. “It makes sense. Harry has to go on and Sarah’s better at defensive spells than I am,” she smiled slightly at them, “I’ll get Ron and Draco and use the brooms from the flying-key room. I’ll go to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, you’ll need him.”

“But – “

“It’s okay, Sarah. If You-Know-Who is with Snape then Harry’s going to need you by his side,” Hermione interrupted.

Sarah pulled the other girl into a tight hug. “Be careful,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry, I will. I’ll look after Draco, as well. I promise,” Hermione promised.

She dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.

“ _Hermione_!”

“Harry – you’re a great wizard, you know.”

“I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as Hermione let go of him. Sarah watched with a smile as his pale face slowly turned pink.

“Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh Harry, Sarah – be _careful_!”

“You drink first,” said Harry. “You are sure which is which, aren’t you?”

“Positive,” said Hermione. She took the bottle at the end and swallowed the small mouthful. She shuddered but walked toward the door they had come through.

“Is it poison?” said Harry anxiously.

“Wow, such faith in us, Harry,” teased Sarah weakly.

Hermione laughed. “No – but it’s like ice.”

“Quick, go before it wears off,” said Sarah.

“Good luck – take care – “

“GO!”

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

Sarah took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. She and Harry turned to face the black flames.

“Here goes nothing,” she said and she took a mouthful from the bottle before passing it to Harry, who drained it in one gulp.

It was indeed as though ice was flooding her body. She put the bottle down and grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling them both forward; they braced themselves, saw the black flames licking their bodies, but couldn’t feel them – for a moment they could see nothing but dark fire – then they were on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there – but it wasn’t Snape. It wasn’t even Voldemort.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

It was Quirrell.

“ _You_!” gasped Harry.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn’t twitching at all.

“Me,” he said calmly. “I wondered whether I’d be meeting you here, Potter.”

Quirrell turned toward Sarah with a twisted smile on his face.

“I _am_ slightly surprised to see you, Miss Deaumont. I was of the belief that you had certain – shall we say, _expectations_ – to uphold.”

Sarah shivered at Quirrell’s words. She was even more terrified than when she and Hermione had been attacked by the troll.

“But I thought – Snape – “ Harry stuttered in confusion.

“Severus?” Quirrell laughed, and it wasn’t his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. “Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?”

If Sarah hadn’t been shaking from fear, she would have probably laughed at Quirrell’s description of Snape as an overgrown bat.

Harry couldn’t seem to take it in. He was shaking his head as if it would suddenly make the truth clearer.

“But Snape tried to kill me!”

“No, no, no. _I_ tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at the Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I’d have got you off that broom. I’d have managed it before then if Snape hadn’t been muttering the countercurse, trying to save you.”

Sarah growled at Quirrell and took a step forward, terror momentarily forgotten, but Harry grabbed her arm and held her back.

“Snape was trying to _save_ me?” said Harry incredulously.

“Of course,” said Quirrell coolly with an amused glance at Sarah. “Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn’t do it again. Funny, really…he needn’t have bothered. I couldn’t do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he _did_ make himself unpopular…and what a waste of time, when after all that, I’m going to kill you tonight.”

“You _wish_ ,” snarled Sarah.

Quirrell merely snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around her and Harry.

“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone,” He swept his cruel gaze to Sarah, who was struggling helplessly against the bindings. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid that there’s someone who has requested you remain alive, Miss Deaumont. However,” he grinned evilly, teeth flashing in the firelight, “they never said you had to remain _unharmed_.”

Sarah shouted a curse at him that would have made Narcissa wash her mouth out with soap. Beside her, Harry was struggling silently against his bonds. Suddenly, part of Quirrell’s words clicked in Sarah’s mind.

“Wait a minute, _you_ let the troll in?”

“Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls – you must have seen what I did to that one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off – and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly.”

He turned around suddenly.

“Now, wait quietly. I need to examine this interesting mirror.”

It was only then that Sarah realised a giant mirror was standing behind Quirrell. She glanced over at Harry when he inhaled quickly, recognition lighting his eyes.

“What is that?” she whispered.

“I’ll tell you later,” he muttered. “ _Hopefully_ …”

“This mirror is the key to finding the Stone,” Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. “Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this…but he’s in London…I’ll be far away by the time he gets back…”

All Sarah could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror – whatever it did.

“We saw you and Snape in the forest – “ she blurted out.

Harry looked at her in surprise and she shrugged, panicking.

“Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me – as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…”

Sarah exchanged a worried glance with Harry as Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

“I see the Stone…I’m presenting it to my master…but where is it?”

Sarah struggled against the ropes binding her, but they didn’t give. She didn’t know why, but she knew they _had_ to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

“But Snape always hated me so much,” Harry suddenly said.

“Oh, he does,” said Quirrell casually, “heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn’t you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you _dead_.”

“But we heard you a few days ago, sobbing – we thought Snape was threatening you…” Sarah voiced slowly, trying to see if she could move her hand down far enough to get her wand from her pocket.

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell’s face.

“Sometimes,” he said, “I find it hard to follow my master’s instructions – he is a great wizard and I am weak – “

“You mean he was there in the classroom with you?” Harry gasped.

“He is with me wherever I go,” said Quirrell quietly. “I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it…Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me…decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…”

Quirrell cursed under his breath.

“I don’t understand…is the Stone _inside_ the mirror? Should I break it?”

Harry started to try to edge to the left, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over.

“What are you doing?” Sarah hissed under her breath.

“Have to get in front of that mirror,” Harry huffed, straining to move across the floor.

Quirrell ignored them both. He was still talking to himself.

“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!”

And to Sarah and Harry’s horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

“Use the boy…Use the boy….”

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

“Yes – Potter – come here.”

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Sarah continued to struggle against hers as Harry got slowly to his feet.

“Let her go,” he demanded.

“Come here,” Quirrell repeated, ignoring Harry. “Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.”

Harry walked toward him.

Sarah strained to see the mirror and tried to hop carefully forward. She managed to make it an inch before she felt in danger of falling over.

Quirrell had moved close behind Harry.

“Well?” said Quirrell impatiently. “What do you see?”

“I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore,” Harry said. “I – I’ve won the House Cup for Gryffindor.”

Sarah knew he was lying but Quirrell believed him.

“Get out of the way,” said Quirrell. As Harry moved aside, Sarah saw a lump in his pocket that hadn’t been there before. She schooled her face into a blank mask as Harry caught her eye and blinked once. He had the Stone.

Harry began to walk slowly back toward Sarah when a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn’t moving his lips.

“He lies…He lies…”

“Potter, come back here!” Quirrell shouted. “Tell me the truth! What did you just see?”

“Use the girl….too…”

“Deaumont!” Quirrell snapped, waving his hands and breaking her bindings. “Get over here, now!”

Sarah hurried over to Harry’s side.

Quirrell grabbed her and threw her roughly in front of the mirror.

“What do you see?” he demanded.

She saw her reflection, pale and shaky, auburn hair almost as messy as Harry’s and brown eyes terrified. But she wasn’t alone. Standing beside her was her mother. She looked the exact same as when Sarah had last seen her: long, dark hair swept over one shoulder, her eyes – Sarah’s eyes – glimmering with emotion. Draco was also there, standing on Sarah’s other side. He looked happy, free. All around her stood her friends and Narcissa. Her reflection smiled at her – a bright smile of someone who had no worries in the world, who was infinitely happy and surrounded by constant love and support.

“Well?” Quirrell barked, breaking through Sarah’s concentration. “What do you see?”

“My family,” said Sarah truthfully.

Quirrell growled and shoved her out of the way, reaching to grab Harry again before the same voice stopped him.

“Let me speak to them…face to face…”

“Master, you are not strong enough!”

“I have strength enough…for this…”

Sarah felt as if Devil’s Snare was rooting her to the spot. Judging by Harry’s face, he felt the same. She gripped his arm tightly, petrified as they watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell’s head looked strangely small with it. then he turned slowly on the spot.

Sarah choked on a scream. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell’s head, there was a face, the most terrible face Sarah had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

“Harry Potter….” it whispered.

Harry tried to take a step back but Sarah couldn’t move.

“See what I have become?” the face said. “Mere shadow and vapour…I have form only when I can share another’s body…but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks…you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest… and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…Now…why don’t you give me that Stone in your pocket?”

The feeling suddenly surged back into their legs, they stumbled backwards.

“Don’t be a fool,” snarled the face. “Better save your own lives and join me…or you and your _friend_ will mee the same end as your parents…They died begging me for mercy…”

“LIAR!” Harry shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backwards at them so that Voldemort could still see Harry. The evil face was now smiling.

“How touching…” it hissed. “I always value bravery…Yes, boy, your parents were brave…I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight…but your mother needed have died…she was trying to protect you…Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain.”

“NEVER!” shouted Harry, dragging Sarah back toward the door they entered through.

They sprang back but Voldemort screamed “SEIZE HIM! GET RID OF HER!” and the next second, Sarah felt Quirrell’s hand close on her wrist. He wrenched her from Harry’s grasp and threw her into the closest pillar, on which her head collided with a sickening crack.

Black spots appeared in front of her eyes as she watched Quirrell grab Harry. Harry screamed in pain, struggling with all his might, and to Sarah’s surprise, Quirrell let go of him.

Sarah struggled to her feet, fighting nausea and unconsciousness. She stepped toward Harry, trying to reach him as Quirrell hunched nearby in pain, looking at his fingers – they were blistering before his eyes.

“Seize him! SEIZE HIM!” shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet, landing on top of him, both hands around his neck.

Sarah’s scream mingled with those of Harry and Quirrell.

“Master, I cannot hold him – my hands – my hands!”

And Quirrell, though pinning Harry to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms – Sarah could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

“Then kill him, fool, and be done!” screeched Voldemort.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, and Sarah lurched forward. But Harry, seemingly by some instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell’s face.

“AAAARGH!”

Sarah rammed into Quirrell just as Harry released his face. Both Quirrell and Sarah went flying over Harry’s body. Quirrell’s face was blistering, too, and then Sarah knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch Harry’s bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain. Their only chance of surviving was for Harry to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse.

“Harry, grab him!” shouted Sarah, rolling out of the way as Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could.

Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off – managing to kick Sarah painfully in the side before stumbling away. Sarah wheezed for breath. It felt like acid was streaming through her veins. Harry’s face was scrunched up in pain and his face was deathly pale. As Sarah tried to blink away the approaching darkness clouding her vision, all she could hear was Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Voldemort’s of, “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!”. She imagined she could hear other voices, crying, “Sarah! Harry!”

The last thing she saw was Harry falling beside her, Quirrell suddenly wrenched from his grasp. He reached for her arm as she fell into blackness, down…down…down….

***

Sarah heard voices as she emerged from unconsciousness. Her whole body tingled and felt sore, but the terrible feeling of acid in her bones was gone. She struggled to open her eyes against the blinding sunlight streaming through the window beside her. White walls and ceiling met her view as she finally managed to clear her vision. She was in the Hospital Wing.

She groaned softly as she tried to move and the voices immediately stopped. Gold glinted above her as someone stepped into her view. She blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore was looking down at her.

“Good afternoon, Sarah,” said Dumbledore.

Sarah stared at him. Then she remembered: “Sir! Harry, is he okay? What about the Stone? And Quirrell? Draco, Ron, Hermione – “

“Calm yourself, dear girl,” said Dumbledore, blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. “I have just had the same conversation with young Harry here.”

Sarah struggled into a sitting position with Dumbledore’s help and looked to her left. Harry was sitting up in the bed next to her looking tired but no worse for wear. She sighed in relief and relaxed onto the pillows.

“What are these?” Harry asked, grabbing a packet of chocolate from the table between their beds.

“Tokens from your friends and admirers,” said Dumbledore, beaming. “What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat, Harry. No doubt they thought it would amuse you as well, Sarah. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be hygienic and confiscated it.”

Harry chuckled and looked around the room while Sarah asked, “How long have we been here?”

“Three days. Mr Malfoy, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come around, they have been extremely worried. I believe Madam Pomfrey had to threaten Mr Malfoy, in particular, with being banned from the Hospital Wing should he not leave occasionally for food and sleep.”

“But sir, the Stone – “ said Harry.

“I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you both were doing very well on your own, I must say.”

“You got there? You got Hermione’s owl?” asked Sarah.

“We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off Harry – “

“It was _you_.”

“I fear I might be too late.”

“You nearly were, I couldn’t have kept him off the Stone much longer. If Sarah hadn’t distracted him –“

“Not the Stone, boy, you – the effort involved nearly killed you, both of you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. You were both unconscious and Sarah was bleeding from her head, with broken ribs and a punctured lung. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed.”

“Destroyed?” Sarah gasped. “But what about Nicolas and Perenelle – “

“Ah, yes, they did mention you, Sarah,” said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. “They have been waiting for you to wake up, I believe they wish to speak to you.”

“But that means they’ll die!” said Sarah, tears welling up in her eyes. “They can’t! They can’t!”

Sarah knew she sounded like a whining child but she didn’t care. They were some of her mother’s oldest friends – people Sarah looked up to and respected. They couldn’t just _die_.

“Worry not, dear, they have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die.”

Harry climbed out of his bed and onto Sarah’s as she started crying. He held her tightly to his chest and stroked her hair gently.

“To one as young as you, I’m sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, _very_ long day. After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all – the trouble is, humans do have a knack for choosing precisely those things that are worse for them.”

Harry held Sarah as she cried, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling before waving his wand. A silvery thing burst out and soared through the Hospital Wing’s door. 

“Sir?” said Harry, after Sarah had managed to regain control over her breathing. “I’ve been thinking…Sir – even if the Stone’s gone, Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who – “

“Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.”

“Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort’s going to try other ways of coming back, isn’t he? I mean, he hasn’t gone, has he?”

“No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share…not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you and Sarah may have only delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time – and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.”

Sarah didn’t like the implication of Dumbledore’s words. He made it sound as if he expected _Harry_ to continue to delay Voldemort.

Harry, oblivious to Sarah’s thoughts, continued to speak. “Sire, there are some other things I’d like to know, if you can tell me…things I want to know the truth about…”

“The truth.” Dumbledore sighed. “It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should, therefore, be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I bed you’ll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie.”

“Well…Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?”

Sarah gripped Harry tightly as he spoke, offering him comfort.

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

“Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day…put it from your mind, for now, Harry. When you are older…I know you hate to hear this…when you are ready, you will know.”

Harry clearly disagreed but looked as if it wasn’t worth arguing about.

“But why couldn’t Quirrell touch Harry?” Sarah asked.

“His mother died to save him. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realise that love as powerful as your mother’s love, Harry, for you, leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign…to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.”

“And the Invisibility Cloak – do you know who sent it to me?”

“Ah – your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Useful things…your father, Harry, and your mother, Sarah, used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when they were here.”

“And there’s something else…” Harry continued.

“Fire away.”

“Quirrell said Snape – “

“ _Professor_ Snape, Harry.”

“Yes, him – “ Sarah snorted at Harry’s blatant disregard for respect of the Potions Professor. “Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?”

“Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Crabbe. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.”

“What?”

“He saved his life.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Yes…” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt… I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace…”

Sarah tried to understand that logic but it made her head pound.

“And sir, there’s one more thing…” said Harry.

“Just the one?”

“How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?”

“Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between us, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to _find_ the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it, otherwise, they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking the Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes…Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them – but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, “Alas! Ear wax!”

Sarah and Harry’s laughter was interrupted by the Hospital Wing’s doors creaking open.

A dark-haired couple appeared in the doorway and began to make their way down the ward to where Sarah, Harry and Dumbledore were.

“Ah, Nicolas, Perenelle, I’m glad you got my message,” said Dumbledore.

Harry had a shocked look on his face as Sarah vaulted out of her bed, sprinting to the couple and throwing her arms around them.

“You can’t!” She sobbed. “I won’t let you!”

Perenelle ran a hand slowly over her hair. “My dear, it is our time.”

“We have a gift for you,” said Nicolas, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a shrunken, leather-bound book.

He handed it to Sarah after he had returned it to its usual size.

“It contains all our research,” he explained, hints of his French accent coming through. “It also contains your mother’s research. Everything she did before and during her time working alongside us.”

Tears streamed down Sarah’s face as she read her mother’s flowing handwriting. Years’ worth of experimentation and research filled the dry pages. She hugged the journal close to her heart.

“Thank you,” she said tearily.

“We have reached the end of our time, but you are just beginning yours. This will allow you to continue our work,” Nicolas said gently, resting a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“We believe you will become greater than we ever were,” Perenelle revealed. “Your mother thought the same, and she was an extremely intelligent woman.”

Sarah had no words. She hugged them both tightly, promising to keep their memory’s alive.

“Come now, Nicolas, Perenelle, I believe Sarah and Harry need some more rest before their friends arrive. Would you be inclined to join me in my office for tea?” said Dumbledore, stepping up to the trio.

“Of course, old friend,” said Nicolas. “Goodbye, Sarah. It was an honour to have known you.”

Perenelle kissed her lightly on the head. “Rest now, darling and be strong. We will always be with you.”

Sarah knew Perenelle was including her mother in that statement. She nodded and returned to her bed, where Harry was sitting, looking shocked and confused.

“I didn’t know you knew them,” he said when the door swung behind the retreating adults and Sarah had settled beside him again.

“My mother worked with them since I was born,” she explained. “They are like family to me.”

“Wait…that means you knew who Nicolas Flamel was when we were researching him,” said Harry.

Sarah looked tentatively at him. “I did,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to reveal his secrets. My mother had promised me to never speak of their work. I wanted to try to keep her promise even when she was gone.”

Instead of looking angry, Harry smiled at her. “It’s okay, Sarah,” he said, hugging her tight. “I understand.”

Sarah beamed. Despite the pain in her heart, she was okay. They were okay. They were safe.

***

Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict.

“Just five minutes,” Sarah pleaded.

“Absolutely not.”

“You let Professor Dumbledore in…” said Harry.

“Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You both need _rest_.”

“We are resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey…” said Harry, flashing his green puppy-dog eyes at her. Sarah looked at her innocently too, smiling hopefully.

“Oh, very well,” she said. “But five minutes _only_.”

And she let Draco, Ron and Hermione in.

“ _Sarah! Harry_!”

Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around Harry but held herself back at the last minute.

Draco had no such reservations. He leapt on to Sarah’s bed and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Harry had returned to his own bed shortly after Dumbledore had left and was now looking very glad at having avoided the strangling grip of one Draco Malfoy.

“Draco,” Sarah choked. “Can’t… _breathe_ …”

Draco immediately released her, leaning back to look over her worriedly. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Can I get you anything? Don’t _ever_ do anything like that again! Jumping at Voldemort! I was so worried. I thought you weren’t going to make it!”

Draco continued babbling until Sarah hit him with her pillow.

“Shut _up_ , Draco!” she said with a laugh. “I’m okay, we both are.” She smiled at her best friend before attacking him with the pillow. “I cannot _believe_ you, you git! You sacrificed yourself and didn’t even warn us! You could have been _killed!_ ”

Draco looked sheepishly at her and shrugged, settling beside her against the pillows. He reclaimed the one she had been hitting him with and wedged it behind them.

“It had to be done, I’m not sorry,” he said plainly. “And Ronald did the same thing. I don’t see you giving him a hard time about it.”

“ _Oi!”_

“Trust me, when I can reach him, he will be getting the _exact_ same treatment,” Sarah stated.

“Oh, Harry, Sarah, we were sure you were going to – Dumbledore was so worried – “ Hermione said, wringing her hands in her lap.

“The whole school’s talking about it,” said Ron. “What _really_ happened?”

Sarah leant into Draco’s warmth as Harry explained what had happened. He also explained the significance of the mirror. Apparently, it should you your heart’s desire. That explained why she had seen her mother. Draco looked heartbroken when she revealed what she had seen.

“It’s okay. I may not have my mother but I still have everyone else I saw,” Sarah said happily, looking around at her friend’s smiling faces.

Harry continued his story. It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumours. The other three were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Harry told them what was under Quirrell’s turban, Hermione screamed out loud.

“So the Stone’s gone?” said Ron finally. “Flamel’s just going to _die_?”

“Yes,” Sarah said sadly. “They gave me all their work, though, so I can keep their research and memory alive.”

“Dumbledore said – what was it? – ‘to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure.’” Harry said, face scrunched up in thought.

“I always said he was off his rocker,” said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

“So what happened to you three?” Harry asked.

“Well, I got back all right,” said Hermione. I brought Ron and Draco around – that took a while – and Draco had broken ribs so we had to be really careful. We were just heading to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall – he already knew – he just said, ‘Harry’s gone after him, hasn’t he?’ and he hurtled off to the third floor.”

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?”

“ _Well_ ,” Draco exploded, “if he did – I mean to say – that’s terrible – you both could have been killed.”

“No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance and Sarah got caught up in it all. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could…”

“Yeah, Dumbledore’s off his rocker, all right,” said Ron proudly as Draco muttered under his breath words that sounded suspiciously like, “ _Completely irresponsible. Could have died. Crazy old man"_.

“Listen,” Ron continued, “you’ve got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course – you missed the last Quidditch match, Harry, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you – but the food’ll be good.”

Draco and Sarah were looking extremely pleased with themselves at Slytherin’s victory.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

“You’ve had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT,” she said firmly.

***

After a good night’s sleep, Sarah and Harry felt nearly back to normal.

“We want to go to the feast, _please_ , Madam Pomfrey,” Sarah told the nurse as she straightened their candy boxes. “We can, can’t we?”

“Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go,” she said sniffily, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn’t realise how risky feasts could be. “And you both have another visitor.”

“Oh, good,” said Harry. “Who is it?”

Hagrid sidled through the door as he spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down at the end of Harry’s bed, took one look at the pair of them, and burst into tears.

“It’s – all – my – ruddy – fault!” he sobbed, his face in his hands. “I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn’ know, an’ I told him! Yeh could’ve died! All fer a dragon egg! I’ll never drink again! I should be chucked out an’ made ter live as a Muggle!”

Sarah climbed to the end of her bed and placed her hand on Hagrid’s shaking shoulder. “Don’t cry, Hagrid, it’s not your fault.”

“Hagrid!” said Harry, as shocked as Sarah to see Hagrid shaking with grief and remorse, great tears leaking down into his beard. “Hagrid, he’d have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we’re talking about, he’d have found out even if you hadn’t told him.”

“Yeh both could’ve died!” sobbed Hagrid. “An’ don’ say the name!”

“VOLDEMORT!” they both bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked he stopped crying. “We’ve met him and we’re calling him by his name,” Harry said definitively.

“Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it’s gone, he can’t use it. Have a Chocolate Frog, we’ve got loads,” Sarah offered, clambering back to the other end of her bed.

Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, “That reminds me. I’ve got yeh both a present.”

“It’s not a stoat sandwich, is it?” said Harry anxiously, and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle.

“Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix them up. ‘Course, she shoulda sacked me instead – anyway, got yeh these…”

He handed Harry and Sarah each a handsome, leather-covered book. Sarah opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at her from every page was her mother. She glanced over at Harry to see his eyes tearing up slightly. She angled her book toward him to show him the pictures and he did the same. Covering the pages were smiling pictures of his parents.

“Sent owls off ter all yer parents’ old school friends, askin’ fer photos…knew yeh didn’ have any, Harry…and I thought yeh might like ‘em, Sarah…d’yeh like it?”

Harry couldn’t speak by the looks of it and neither could Sarah. Instead, she launched herself at Hagrid, hugging him tightly.

***

Sarah and Harry made their way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. They had been held up by Madam Pomfrey’s fussing about, insisting on giving them one last checkup. They had only been able to escape when Sarah had bolted out the door, pulling Harry quickly behind her. However, this meant that the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin’s colours of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin’s winning the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.

When they walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody starting talking loudly at once. Sarah and Harry separated, with her slipping beside Draco at the Slytherin table and Harry between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Sarah tried to ignore that fact that people were standing up to look at them both.

“Another year gone!” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are all a little fuller than they were…you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…”

Pansy scoffed from beside Sarah. “Crazy old codger.”

“Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and ninety-two points; in third, Hufflepuff, with four hundred points; Ravenclaw, with four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.”

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Sarah and Draco watched in amusement as Pansy and Blaise hugged each other in excitement with identical high-pitched squeals. Harry waved from the Gryffindor table and gave them a big thumbs up.

“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin,” said Dumbledore. “However, recent events must be taken into account.”

The room went very still. Some of the other Slytherins’ smiles faded a bit. Harry’s smile became very strained and he fixed his eyes on Sarah. _What’s going on?_ He mouthed. She shrugged in return.

“Ahem,” said Dumbledore. “I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…First – to Mr Ronald Weasley and Mr Draco Malfoy…”

Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn. Draco inhaled sharply and kept his gaze upon the Headmaster, his face gradually getting pinker and pinker with each passing moment.

“…for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor and Slytherin forty points each.”

Cheers mixed in the air from the two tables. Sarah hugged Draco tightly to her as he blushed profusely.

At last there was silence again.

“Second – to Miss Hermione Granger…for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House forty points.”

Hermione buried her face in her arms; Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder and patted her gently on the back.

Slytherin table was getting slightly uneasy – Gryffindor were eighty points up while Slytherin had only forty more.

“Third – to Mr Harry Potter and Miss Sarah Deaumont…” said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. “…for pure nerve and outstanding courage, for standing strong alongside friends in the face of danger, I award each house fifty points.”

Cheers erupted from all the tables. Slytherin, in particular, was ecstatic – they were still ahead by forty points. They had won the House Cup.

Just as the cheers were reaching a deafening level, Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent again.

“There are all kinds of courage,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award forty-five points to Mr Neville Longbottom.”

It seemed as if some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in shock as the rest of their House jumped up and down and screamed. Neville disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. Sarah looked around at the rest of her House who was sitting in silence. Blaise’s face had dramatically fallen from a large grin to a confused grimace. Pansy sat shaking her head at Dumbledore.

“Which means,” Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, “we need a little change of decoration.”

He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Hagrid was cheering loudly from the teacher’s table while Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief.

Harry looked toward Sarah in horror, ignoring the people who smacked his back in excitement. She just gaped back. Draco had straightened and had gone very, very still.

The rest of the feast passed in a blur. 

***

Sarah and Draco didn’t see the others until the next morning when they were leaving on the train to Platform nine and three-quarters.

“I cannot _believe_ Dumbledore did that!”

Hermione’s screech reached them before she did. She stormed into the carriage and flung herself onto a free seat, arms crossed.

Pansy stopped talking suddenly and peered at the Gryffindor curiously.

“Are they all like this?” She asked, poking Hermione with a manicured nail.

“Most of them,” Draco replied breezily, shuffling to give Harry and Ron room to sit.

Hermione gave a disgruntled huff and pushed Pansy’s hand away from her.

“It was completely unfair of Dumbledore to award us all those points,” she said.

“Hey, considering what we went through I think some points were the least of what we deserved,” Sarah voiced, leaning down to lay her head in Harry’s lap and her feet in Draco’s. Harry immediately began threading his fingers through her loose hair.

“Well, yes, you’re right,” Hermione started.

“Of course I am,” Sarah agreed easily.

“ _Regardless,_ ” continued Hermione with a glare at Sarah. “He had no reason to make Gryffindor win the cup. He just didn’t want Slytherin to win and that is completely ridiculous. You guys earned all those points!”

“Granger, you’re preaching to the choir, love,” Pansy stated, patting the other girl on the arm.

“Old Dumbledore is always going to favour anyone that _isn’t_ Slytherin,” Blaise explained calmly, reaching over Harry to tap Sarah on the nose.

Sarah scrunched up her nose in response. “Yes, it’s unfair. No, we can’t do anything about it.”

“But - !”

“Drop it, Hermione. There’s really nothing we can do,” Ron snapped.

Hermione sat back with another huff.

“What’s everyone’s plans for the holidays?” Theo asked in an attempt to break the tense silence.

“My parents are taking Blaise and me to France for most of the summer,” said Pansy, reaching for the book she had discarded next to her. “Blaise’s dear mother is off galivanting with her next hunk of meat.”

“It’s okay, Pansy, you can say victim,” Blaise remarked.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. “ _Victim_?” He choked weakly.

“Oh, yes,” drawled Blaise with a dismissive wave of his hand. “My mother goes through husbands as often as the seasons change. I’ve been advised to stay away this summer while she works on her most recent _conquest_.” The last word was said with a disgusted curl of his lip.

“Blaise, you know you’re always welcome at the Manor with us once you get sick of Pansy,” Sarah said, looking toward the dark-skinned boy.

“I’ll be holding you to that.”

“Well, that’s rude!” Pansy grumbled.

“Don’t frown, darling, you’ll get wrinkles,” Draco smirked.

Pansy huffed and crossed her arms in a way identical to Hermione.

“Harry, I’m going to ask mum if you can stay with us for some of the holidays,” Ron said to the black-haired boy.

“Really?” Harry asked excitedly. Sarah peered up at him to see a wide smile adorn his face.

“Of course, I’ll owl you,” Ron said.

“Millie, what are your plans?” Draco asked.

“I expect I’ll be required to go to your family’s solstice party but other than that not much,” Millicent replied.

“Solstice party?” Hermione inquired.

Draco winced slightly. “Yes,” he sighed. “My parents have always thrown an extravagant party to celebrate the solstice – I have no idea why. I expect it’s just for popularity and to display their wealth.” He frowned slightly. “It’s honestly a load of rubbish. Sarah and I always try to escape as soon as we can.”

“Yeah, last time you two disappeared before the first round of champagne. I was left alone with my mother and her friends for ages!” Pansy sniped from the seat opposite them.

“Well, I wasn’t really in much of a partying mood,” said Sarah.

Pansy paled slightly. “Oh Merlin, Sarah – I didn’t mean – I’m sorry – “

“It’s fine, Pans,” teased Sarah. “Draco and I just went and watched the elves get sloshed. Did you know they _cannot_ handle their alcohol?” She laughed brightly at the memory. “We had to hide the bottles before they ended up too drunk to stand.”

Draco laughed brightly. “It was brilliant, I hope it happens again.”

“Now, now, Draco. What would your mother say?” Blaise teased.

“She’d probably join them,” Theo muttered with a smile.

The compartment burst into laughter as they imagined Narcissa drunk with house-elves.

“What about you, Hermione?” Sarah asked in between giggles.

“Would I get drunk with Draco’s mum? No,” she replied with a smirk.

“Oh Merlin,” gasped Pansy in delight. “I like her.”

“No,” Sarah said breathlessly. “What are your holiday plans?”

“I think I’m going to start some research on the electives for third year, I want to understand them before we make a choice,” Hermione stated.

Everyone stared at her in shock.

“What?” she asked.

“You absolute swot!” Pansy shouted. “You can’t study during the holidays – what about fun?”

“That is fun – “

“No, no, absolutely not!” Sarah interrupted, sitting up suddenly. “We’re going to do something fun.” She thought for a moment before smirking widely. “I know – you can take Draco and me out shopping in muggle London.”

“ _What_?” Draco and Hermione said in unison.

“Hermione will take us to muggle London,” Sarah repeated calmly. “I want to get some muggle clothes.”

“Sarah, Draco’s parents would disown him if they knew he was interacting with muggles,” Millicent stated.

“They won’t need to know,” replied Sarah with a shrug. “We can just ask Narcissa if we can spend time with Hermione.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. “If my father finds out…”

“He won’t, hun, everything will be okay,” Sarah reassured.

Draco was silent for a moment before catching Harry’s eye.

“I think you should do it,” said Harry. Sarah nodded her head eagerly in agreement.

“Okay fine,” Draco acquiesced.

“Brilliant!” said Sarah. “Hermione, I’ll owl you and we can figure out the details.”

The other girl smiled brightly in reply.

“Anyone up for a game of exploding snap?” Ron offered, fishing the cards out of his pocket.

Sarah settled back into Harry’s lap as the others began their game.

The rest of the train ride passed quickly until they finally pulled into Platform nine and three-quarters.

They all grabbed their trunks and hurried onto the platform.

Blaise and Pansy waved goodbye and disappeared. Theo and Millicent followed soon after.

Sarah spotted Narcissa’s gleaming hair and dragged Draco and Harry over to her.

“Hello, Narcissa!” she said, hugging the older woman tightly.

“Sarah, dear, how was school?” Narcissa asked calmly.

Sarah exchanged glances with Harry and Draco and then shrugged. “Pretty boring actually.”

Draco grinned and hugged his mother. Harry awkwardly stood next to Sarah, wringing his hands in his shirt.

“Narcissa, this is our friend, Harry,” Sarah said, grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling him forward slightly.

“Ah, yes, Draco has mentioned you in his letters, Mr Potter,” Narcissa said after a moment’s hesitation. She smiled down at the nervous boy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Harry let out a breath and smiled politely back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs Malfoy. Draco and Sarah speak very highly of you.”

“Is that so?” Narcissa replied with a small smile. Sarah thought back to the conversation about Narcissa drinking with elves and blushed slightly. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Harry, where will you be getting picked up?” Draco asked.

“Er…my uncle will be waiting on the muggle side, hopefully,” Harry replied. Narcissa shrunk both Draco and Sarah’s trunks and put them in her robe’s pocket.

“Well, let us accompany you to them,” Narcissa stated.

Sarah grabbed Harry’s hand and led him to the brick wall that separated the platform from muggle King’s Cross Station.

When they passed through, they found three people waiting on the other side. They were standing to the side as if to ensure the surrounding people that they didn’t have anything to do with the groups of families that excited from the wizarding platform.

“Ready, are you?” came a gruff voice.

It was an extremely fat man who must have been Harry’s uncle. He was purple-faced with a large moustache and looked furious at seeing Harry. A thin, blonde woman stood behind him, her face pinched with disapproval. In her grasp stood a rotund blond boy who looked horribly similar to his father – like an ugly baby whale.

Harry sighed slightly beside Sarah.

“You must be Harry’s family,” Narcissa said primly, looking down her nose at the trio.

“In a manner of speaking,” said his uncle. “Hurry up, boy, we haven’t got all day.” He walked away without waiting for a reply, leaving Narcissa, Draco and Sarah staring at him in shock.

Sarah turned to Harry quickly.

“Harry, owl me if anything happens. And I mean, _anything_ , okay?” She stared at him worriedly.

“I promise, Sarah, I’ll be okay,” he reassured, kissing her cheek gently. He stared at the retreating backs of his uncle, aunt and cousin. “I better go. It was lovely meeting you, Mrs Malfoy.”

He grabbed Draco and then Sarah in a tight hug before squaring his shoulders and walking toward the three figures, looking back once to give them a bright smile, green eyes sparkling.

“Oh, I do hope he will be okay,” Sarah said quietly.

“He will – we’ll make sure of it,” Draco assured.

Narcissa looked tense but nodded in agreement. “Come on, let’s go home.”

(Le fin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it! The first book done! The second one is also complete and the third has just been started. I'll be updating the second one in a few days and hopefully will be able to put the third one up by the end of the month. I really want to make sure that the entire story is finished before posting it as it means you guys don't have to wait for the complete story. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this so far xx
> 
> More challenges to come in the next instalment before we finally start veering off track and getting somewhere!


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